Ladies of Fire and Ice
by RussetDivinity
Summary: Princess Antimony of the Southern Isles is the youngest of ten children and feels as though no one notices her. One day, when wandering the castle, she meets her uncle, who shares a similar tale: Prince Hans.
1. Antimony Meets the Rat

Princess Antimony Westerguard of the Southern Isles was the youngest of King Hjalmar's ten children. Hjalmar himself was the oldest of thirteen brothers, nearly all of whom had several children of their own. Since two of his brothers and their families lived in the castle with in and at least one was constantly visiting, the castle was often full of aunts, uncles, and cousins of varying degrees. Each holiday season, before his brothers joined him at the castle, Hjalmar would remind his children of the names of each aunt, uncle, and cousin and expect them to be memorized. It was urgent to know this, he told them, to avoid insulting anyone who might be important, and family was always important. All of Antimony's brothers and sisters agreed, and they looked forward to seeing their kin again. Antimony didn't usually share their enthusiasm, but then, she often slipped between the cracks of her family and – even if they didn't actively try to make her so – became nearly invisible.

Her oldest brother, Morten, was the heir to the throne and often working with their father on memorizing laws and various names of dignitaries. He was nearly old enough to be Antimony's father, and although she thought she remembered him being kind to her once, he never had time to pay attention to a sixteen-year-old girl, especially one who would be of no importance to the succession.

The next, Emma, was married to the king of the country just southwest. She had studied politics with Morten, but she also had to study more languages, and how to manage a household. Her studies had taken just as much of her time as Morten's had his, and she had never had time to take much notice of Antimony. She married when Antimony was still very young, and at most, Antimony would see her three nephews during the holidays.

Next came Cecilie, who was also married, this time to a lord from the Hebrides. She wrote back often, saying the people of those isles had hair just as red as several of her brothers and sisters. By that, naturally, she meant her half-brothers and sisters. Hjalmar had married several women, and Cecilie was the youngest daughter of his first wife.

His second wife had died giving birth to twins, Eluf and Lucia. Eluf had, naturally, gone into the army, where he rose through the ranks through both skill and family ties. Lucia had also wanted to join the army, but when she was refused, she ran away, determined to find a place where she could fight freely and defend the weak. No one had heard from her again, and everyone assumed she was dead. A lit candle sat beneath her portrait, and sometimes Antimony went to look at the golden-haired woman and wonder what really had become of her.

After the twins was born a sickly girl who died a few days after she was born. Her mother died hours later, barely more than a girl herself. The baby hadn't been named, but everyone called her "daisy-child".

The next was Thea, who went off to become a nun. She was one of the ones Antimony remembered well, and she remembered her older sister being quiet and soft. Perhaps that was why she had gone to the convent; the Westerguard family was too loud and large for her to deal with, and she didn't have Antimony's gift of shrinking into the shadows.

After Thea came Hanne, who loved to study history and science, and anything else she could get her hands on. She was a spinster, but everyone loved her because she taught the royal children. Even when she was young, she had taught them, and Antimony remembered being interested in the lessons but knowing she was only one of a group. She couldn't even be distinguished by being Hanne's sister, since she had two other siblings in the group, and even then she was only their half-sister.

Antimony had two siblings who had actually taken notice of her, and only because they were the three youngest. The older was Annelise, who had seen Antimony as a rival. Both their names were often shortened to "Annie", and although they now went by their full first names, Annelise still found every excuse she could to find fault with Antimony. The other was Nora, who saw Antimony as something of a pet. Without Antimony, she would have been the youngest, and likely everyone would have targeted her for either teasing or ignoring. They still did, but Antimony had it worse, which seemed to be enough to placate Nora.

Between Annelise and Nora, Antimony would have had quite enough to deal with. Every time Annelise picked at her, even in the smallest way, she felt as though a piece of her skin was being pulled off, and every time Nora tried to pull her into her room to plait her hair or put her in some pretty dress, she felt like a child. Around her older siblings, she felt invisible, and she didn't know whether that was worse than being noticed. Her father had no time for her, her mother had died when she was a child, and none of the servants would speak with her beyond "Yes, Your Royal Highness" or "No, Your Royal Highness", so she spent most of her time either in the library or wandering the halls. Both managed to be interesting; the library always had some book she hadn't yet read, and there was always some hidden room or secret passage that she hadn't noticed before. Sometimes she didn't even realize she was lonely.

One day, when she was sixteen and wandering some of the lower halls, she heard Niels Bendtsen, one of the guards, calling out, "Lunch!" In response, there was only a faint groan. Antimony ducked behind a pillar – the Westerguard castle was suspiciously full of places to hide or be hidden – and waited for Niels to leave so she could at least look at the prisoner. The guard strode past her, not even glancing to the side where she hid. It stung a little to feel invisible, even when she wanted to be unseen; she shouldn't want so badly to be grabbed by the arm and dragged before her father to be scolded for lurking.

Once Niels had left, she walked down the hall and stopped outside the door. It was the same as any prison door: made from bars of metal with a gap at the base for plates of food to be pushed through. Hunched against the back wall, just out of the light shining through the window, was a man. He looked to be a few years older than Antimony, with knotted red hair and ragged clothes that had once been fine. He looked somehow familiar, but Antimony couldn't quite place how, and she stood outside the door for nearly a minute, watching him stare at the untouched plate of crusty bread.

The man sighed. "If you've come back for a laugh, Niels, you might as well get it over with. I'm not going to get any more pathetic in the near future."

"I'm not Niels."

The man looked up and froze. He had been pale before, but now his face looked gray. "A ghost," he whispered. "Anna?"

Now it was Antimony's time to freeze. The explanation everyone would give was that the man had gone mad, or was so already. Perhaps he saw ghosts often and had named them. But then why would he ask about a name so similar to her own. Anna was a common name, she reminded herself, and her own name could be shortened in many ways.

"But no," he said. "Anna lived, and you don't look like her. You look almost like you could be my family." He crawled forward a bit, and she realized that he looked as though he could be her family. He was red-haired, like so many of her cousins and uncles, and he had freckles. He could be another cousin, lost to the ages, though she had never heard of such a scandal that would cause one of her own cousins to be locked away. The news would have been all over the castle, and there had only been one important imprisoning that she could recall.

"Hans?"

"Yes. I'm Prince Hans, embarrassment of the Southern Isles." He looked as though he wanted to laugh but had forgotten how. "I'm surprised you remembered me. No one else has. I had to learn about my father's death and my brother's coronation second-hand."

Antimony thought back to her old lessons. Hans was her youngest uncle, some years older than she was. They had never spent much time together, despite the closeness of their ages; after all, he was part of the more immediate royal family, and she was just one of several children who happened to be connected to the throne by blood. She had relations who were in that situation with regards to her.

"Of course, I don't think I ever properly met you," Hans said, getting to his feet. "If I did, it was so long ago that I barely remember it. Perhaps we ought to meet again, properly." He walked unsteadily toward the door, wavering with each step until he stood mere feet from her. "I am Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles, formerly thirteenth in line for the throne, now regrettably removed from the succession." He bowed, and for a moment Antimony thought he might faint. "And you are?"

"I am Princess Antimony Westerguard of the Southern Isles, many places down the line for the throne." She curtsied, lowering her eyes as would befit greeting an elder. "It is an honor to meet you."

"You're the first to say that for a very long time." Hans smiled. "I had thought you were one of the guards. They only come back when they think they can make my day worse than it already is. I've never had anyone else come down here."

"Why not?" She had heard some of what had happened, but all the stories differed. In some, he had conspired to take over a kingdom; in others, to kill a princess. In some he had killed the princess, angering the queen so much that she nearly froze him to death, and it was only through the mercy of Hjalmar that he had been spared.

"Most of my brothers would prefer to believe I don't exist. Some of them may have forgotten about me entirely." He wrapped his hands around the bars and leaned on them, as though he lacked the strength to support himself on his own legs. "You probably can't imagine what it's like, feeling like your own family doesn't care whether you live or die."

"I'm the youngest of ten," Antimony said. "Only two of my sisters ever notice me, and none of my brothers." She had never thought about whether they cared if she lived or died. She had always assumed they would care because she was family.

Hans's eyes grew wide. "I didn't realize," he said. "I wouldn't have mentioned it if I had known."

"Don't worry about it," she said. And then, because his green eyes seemed so wide in his pale face, she asked, "Do they feed you enough?"

"Maybe. Whether I eat enough of what they give me is another question." He stepped closer to the bars, and Antimony did the same. "Sometimes I can't bring myself to care whether I starve here. No one else does."

"I care." Antimony took another step forward and set her hand on his. She could feel the bones in his fingers. "I'd care if you live or die."

His fingers wrapped around hers, and she could still feel the cold from the metal bar left on his skin. "Thank you, Antimony," he said, his voice cracking. "Will you come back?"

"As often as I can. I promise."


	2. The Prince of Pain

It wasn't until Antimony actually had something that she wanted to do that she realized how much of her time was taken up with the minutiae of being a princess. Her family might not notice her, but her tutors would notice her absence, so she had to be at every one of her lessons. The lessons were also getting more difficult, and she found that she needed to spend time reading literature and history in the library or she would look like a fool for not knowing what she was expected to. Sometimes as she read, she would look at the clock in the library and wonder if Hans had gotten lonely or had begun to think she wouldn't be there that day. She didn't want to think of him sitting alone beneath the window or having given up hope, but there was nothing else she could do.

On their second meeting, he had asked her to keep their talks a secret. "Hjalmar wouldn't understand," he said. "He barely paid attention to me when I was younger, and now he thinks I'm nothing but a criminal. I know what I did was wrong, but the way he's treating me is too harsh. Your brother Morten wouldn't understand either. Hjalmar probably raised him to agree with everything he says."

"He probably wouldn't listen to me if I did try to tell him," Antimony said. "I don't think he ever really saw me at all."

"Besides," Hans continued, "if Hjalmar knew I enjoyed speaking with you, he'd forbid you from coming here. He might even double the guards just to make sure I wouldn't have any happiness."

"That's terrible," Antimony said. Her father had seemed harsh, certainly, but never cruel. For a moment she doubted Hans's words, but from how he looked and the pain in his voice, she couldn't bring herself to disbelieve him. "Of course I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you," Hans said, and he pressed his hands over hers. They knelt together by the door so they could speak quietly and not alert any of the guards. Hans had assured her that there were no other prisoners in the hall, and Antimony had gone through and checked after that first day, so she knew he was truthful.

She had to look out for the guards, too, to make sure they wouldn't be interrupted. In an odd way, the fact that they ignored him most of the time worked in their favor. Niels was the only guard who came by, and he never stayed for longer than it took to give Hans his food. He didn't even look very closely at the hall, which made hiding far easier than it should have been. Once, Antimony was able to hide barely a foot from him, close enough that she could hear his breathing as he passed Hans's food through the door. Most of the time, however, she didn't encounter Niels. She had his schedule memorized, at least when it came to Hans, and with few exceptions was able to avoid him entirely.

"You've been so kind to me," Hans said one day. "It's been years since I last saw a friendly face, but now I can see you almost every day."

"I wish I could come more often," she said. She would have been happy to spend a full afternoon with him instead of just a few stolen hours. She wanted to walk through the castle with him and go through the gardens. It was spring, and everything was coming into bloom. It would do him good to see the bright colors and feel the wind on his face.

"I wish I could be a better uncle," he replied. "It isn't right that you should have to see me like this. I ought to be by your side, with the rest of your family. I know we may not have been close before, but now that you're old enough to be with the adults, we could have been friends." He smiled. "Maybe even allies against anyone who would try to make us feel invisible."

"If you were with the rest of my family, you wouldn't notice me any more than they do."

"That's not true." The smile was gone, and Hans now looked incredibly serious. It was as though a mask had fallen from his face, and he pressed her hand earnestly. "I would never overlook you, Antimony."

It felt like one of the kindest things anyone had ever said to her.

Even though she had to keep her talks with Hans a secret, Antimony was sure someone had to have noticed. Perhaps they hadn't noticed that she would sneak away, since she had done that often already to the point of vanishing for hours at a time and not receiving any comment on her return, but she was sure something had to be different about her. She felt bolder after speaking with him, as though she had been standing alone against an impossible foe but now had someone behind her, ready to support her. She felt as though she could stand up straighter among her family. Her strides felt firmer, and sometimes when she looked in the mirror she thought even her eyes seemed brighter. There were enough people in the castle who were used to having her around that she was sure someone would have noticed by now.

But everyone was silent. She would get at most a nod of greeting when she entered a room before attention turned away from her again. Even Annelise and Nora didn't seem to notice. Annelise's attention didn't become any sharper than before, though Antimony had thought she might see her cheer and want to cut it down. Nora didn't seem either pleased or displeased that her younger sister was happier. She acted the same as ever, pulling Antimony away from whatever she was doing to dress her up or toy with her hair or talk about nobles they might one day marry. Since both of them were almost painfully far down the line of succession, it was difficult to believe either of them would find someone willing to marry. Neither had gotten marriage proposals from anyone with higher status than minor nobles. Nora claimed to be waiting for something better. Antimony simply didn't talk about marriage, except when she sat with Hans.

"Marriage was always around me," she said one day. It was raining, but Hans had refused the coat she brought him, saying that it would only make Niels suspicious if he had it in the cell and that he was sure the guard would suspect if he wasn't soaked through. Antimony had reluctantly folded it onto her lap, and now she fidgeted with the buttons as she spoke. "It was as much a part of life as anything else. My oldest sisters were married for political reasons, and every other marriage I've ever known has been for a treaty or to bring two countries closer together. Since I'm so far away from the throne, no one would want to marry me, so I never bothered to think about it."

"That was how I felt a few years ago," Hans said. "I went out to prove that even the youngest son can win a wife, but it didn't end well." He looked away for a moment, and Antimony was about to change the subject when he said, "Royalty can still dream of true love. Perhaps, since you have less responsibility, you might even get a chance to fall in love properly."

"I've never met anyone I'd want to fall in love with," Antimony said. She had met people from a distance who attracted her, but there was never any chance to speak with them. No one cared about the tenth child of a king, except for Hans.

"Be patient," Hans said. "Someone will come. Someday, your life will change."

She wanted it to be true. She wanted her life to become something wonderful and exciting, rather than being ignored and pushed aside. She had noticed how alone she was before, but now that she had Hans to talk to, the rest of her life stood out in an even starker contrast. She was less alone than before, but the loneliness felt even worse, and she began avoiding her family. Before, her happiness about having someone to talk to had bled out into the rest of her life. Now, it was just a reminder of how painful the rest of her life was. More than ever she kept to herself, and sometimes she was quiet even with Hans. She never told him why when he asked; she didn't want to remind him of that part of his life.

She couldn't avoid her family at meals. She had before, with the help of a vegetable garden and the fruit orchards near the castle. They were how she had managed to spend hours away from the rest of her family, keeping company only with herself. Now, however, she had a reason to be at the table and to eat a full meal. As long as she could avoid sitting near Annelise and Nora, she was able to smuggle food out of the dining hall wrapped in a large handkerchief. As often as she could, she brought the food to Hans and insisted that he eat. The first time, he had refused, saying Niels would suspect something if he suddenly started gaining weight. Antimony had left the bundle anyway, and when she returned, Hans had given her back an empty handkerchief. Since then, he had lost his shyness about eating in front of her, and sometimes they shared meals together.

"It would be nice if we could eat in the garden someday," Antimony said as she nibbled on a piece of roasted chicken. Hans was busying himself with some fried vegetables Antimony had wrapped in bread, but he looked up, curious. "It's beautiful out there," Antimony explained. "If you go at the right time, there's all the food you can eat, and you can carry it to a fountain or even to look out over the sea."

"It sounds beautiful," Hans said. "If I'm ever set free of this place, I'd love to join you."

"I'll find out how to do that," Antimony said. "I can read over the law books and find out if there's a way to free you…" Her voice trailed off as Hans shook his head.

"I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble on my account. If you confront Hjalmar about this, he may become angry. Please, just wait. It may take years, but someday, if I'm able to walk free, I'll join you in the garden and we'll eat together."

It was rumored that Hjalmar was so named because his mother had been descended from warriors who came from the northern fjords. Antimony had never seen him truly angry, and none of his children had that rumored fury, but she would prefer not to test his patience. "I'll wait as long as I have to," she promised.

Sometimes, Antimony wondered if this was how it felt to love someone. She had tried to love her family when she was younger, and she was sure had had convinced herself that she loved Nora, but with Hans it was different. Hans didn't see her as a pet or just as some person who happened to live in the same place he did; he saw her as Antimony. He spoke to her kindly and sometimes even asked her not to help him because he was afraid that help would hurt her. She had tried telling him that she wanted to help him, but there didn't seem to be sufficient words. Whenever she came across love poems, none of them seemed right. They were for romantic love; this was something beyond it.

The only thing she could think to say was that she knew his pain.


	3. Eating in the Garden

Niels must have suspected something, for the next time Antimony went to visit Hans, there was a guard standing outside his door. His name was Johannes Lucas, and the two things she knew about him were that he was foreign and the most brutal of the guards. He was only assigned to watch the most dangerous criminals, and Antimony knew that he would report her to her father if he saw her even glance in the direction of Hans's cell. Rather than test her luck, she decided to avoid the area for a few days and hope Johannes's assignment was only temporary.

Now that she wasn't able to visit Hans during all her free time, she was surprised at just how much of it there was. It was strange, the feeling that she was torn between having too much time and none at all. She spent a fair bit of it studying, but even that couldn't occupy her. There were only so many hours she could stand to devote to laws and geography before her mind felt so full of words and maps that she could scarcely think. She spent more time wandering the castle, but no matter where she looked, she found no more secret prisoners. The closest thing she found was a hidden, spider-webbed tunnel that led to one of the smaller gardens. The tunnel was hidden, but it was also in a hall that people often walked through, and it was so dank and its floor filled with small holes that she decided it was hardly worth using.

Since she wasn't able to sneak food to Hans, she stopped eating with the rest of her family. She doubted they noticed. After all, they barely noticed her when she was there, so why would they pay attention when she was gone? She ate in the gardens on sunny days and, when the weather was so bad that she didn't want to set foot outside, she crept into the kitchen and nibbled on leftovers. The servants looked at her strangely whenever they caught her, but she had gotten used to being quiet and careful.

After five days, Johannes was still positioned outside Hans's cell. Antimony walked past the hall once a day, always at a different time, and Johannes was always there. He was even there in the middle of the night, which was when Antimony began to feel suspicious. It was possible he had random shifts and she just had the bad luck to find him at those times, but she suspected it was something else.

Whenever she was out in the garden, she looked up at the windows of the higher cells to see if she could figure out which belonged to Hans. The windows were placed high even in the cells, however, and Hans had seemed to shrink from his window, so unless he knew that she would be looking, she doubted he would be near it. Still, she looked up and waved, hoping that one day she might catch his attention. If she had the bad luck to always run into Johannes, then perhaps she would have the good luck to reach Hans.

Being separated from him wasn't entirely bad, though Antimony felt a bit guilty about feeling glad of that. She hadn't had the chance to eat in the gardens while she was seeing him, and the sunlight felt good on her skin. She had missed the green of the leaves and grass and the warmth of the stepping stones beneath her bare feet. She had missed the sheer variety of the gardens, too. The Southern Isles were known for growing whatever exotic fruits and vegetables they could manage, and Antimony walked through each garden, reminding herself of what each held.

In the end, she chose a handful of various berries, a few carrots, and some herbs for her lunch. They weren't much, but in the clean air and the sunlight, she felt as though she could survive on nothing but a handful of food and some clean water from the well. She often drank from the smaller well, tucked by the sea wall. It was just as clean as the others, but it gave her a view of the ocean to the north and was more hidden than the others. Most of the wells were set out in plain sight, where family, servants, and visitors could easily find them. They were kept well-cleaned and decorated with flowers and ivy. Antimony's well had cracks along the sides, and she had replaced the rope herself when she saw that it was starting to fray. It was a difficult climb up from the sea wall, and one that often left her with little cuts and scratches on her hands and arms. When she reached the top, though, it was worth it, just to have a place of her own.

Today, someone else was there.

Antimony had finished clambering up the wall when she saw the stranger. She was a woman, with straight blue hair and hollow cheeks, but only from the waist up. Below her waist was a mottled purple and green fish tail. The woman looked at Antimony with orange eyes and bowed, or bowed as best she could from her reclining position by the well.

"Greetings, Princess Antimony," she said, her voice adding a strange trill to the words. "My name is Hanna. I have come from the court of the Sea King."

Antimony bowed in return. "Greetings, Hanna," she said, hoping she wasn't embarrassing herself by not addressing the mermaid properly. Her tutors had never taught her how to address someone from the court of the Sea King. "It is an honor to have you within my father's kingdom. May I ask what business has brought you here?"

"It is not business of state," Hanna said. "Come and sit beside me. I find it so strange when you land-dwellers insist on towering over one another, as though there were no better way to show dominance."

Antimony joined the mermaid on the grass and, so that she wouldn't seem rude, spread out her lunch on a napkin she had brought with her. "I'm afraid I haven't got more to offer you now," she said. "If you'd like, I can fetch better food. If you need anything to drink, I can get water from the well."

"I would be very grateful if you would draw me a bucket of water," Hanna said. When Antimony had done so, Hanna accepted the water with a smile that revealed a row of sharp teeth. "Thank you very much for your hospitality."

"It's my pleasure to offer you the best I can," Antimony said, making another bow before sitting again. "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course." Hanna dipped her hands in the water, and the drops from her fingers scattered everywhere, from her head to her tail. They seemed to refresh her, making her colors more alive, and Antimony wondered if she had been drying out during her time in the sun. For all she knew, the mermaid had been sitting there for hours, though that was likely impossible. Her tutors hadn't taught her much about them, but she knew merfolk could live for some time out of the water, though not forever.

"Why did you come to the castle?" That wasn't exactly the question she had wanted to ask, and since Hanna didn't start talking at once, she added, "Why did you come here instead of to the front gates? I'm the only one who comes to this part of the castle. If you wanted to see King Hjalmar or Prince Morten, it would have been better to go around to the front."

"But I didn't want to see the king or the prince." Hanna's orange eyes seemed out of place on the rest of her body, which looked exactly as a being of the water ought to look. The eyes were orange, like flames, and they seemed to flicker and burn. "I came to see you, Antimony Westerguard, daughter of Surma."

Antimony's breath caught in her throat. "How did you know my mother?" Queen Surma had died shortly after giving birth, and she had never heard anything except whispers that she was a beautiful foreigner. The portrait of her hanging in the Hall of Remembrance looked remarkably like Antimony, and sometimes she had searched her dead mother's face for some sort of companionship.

"I knew her because we were kin," Hanna said. "Your mother was a fire elemental, the purest in her family. One of her sisters fell in love with the Sea King, and so I was born, half fire and half water. It's a miracle I survived." She dipped her hands into the water again, and Antimony thought she saw hints of steam rising from the bucket. "My mother was lucky; being weaker, she didn't give up her spirit into me, and so she was able to have many children. There are seven little fiery mermaids and mermen swimming in your ocean now."

"Weaker?" Antimony asked. "What do you mean? How did that make her lucky?"

The smile slipped from Hanna's face, and she looked pityingly at Antimony. "Do you mean no one told you?"

"Told me what?"

Hanna scoffed. "Of course they wouldn't. None of those humans can see beyond their own kind. Your father probably didn't even know what sort of woman he'd married, and when she died, he likely thought it was an illness from birthing. Is that what he told you?"

"It is." A chill settled over Antimony.

"Don't hate your father," Hanna said. "He didn't know he was lying. What he said was the truth, as far as he knew. What really happened was…" Hanna hesitated before going on. "Surma was a powerful fire elemental. She was so powerful, in fact, that her spirit was destined to pass on to her daughter. It would kill her, of course, but that's the way of things. I don't know why it is the strong ones pass on instead of dividing themselves, like the weak ones do, but then, fire magic's beyond my world."

Hanna spoke on, about how her own flame might grow stronger, and how she hoped it wouldn't cast her out of the water, but Antimony didn't listen. The chill had grown stronger, and she turned her face away from the mermaid so she wouldn't see her grief. It was her fault her mother had died. Simply by being born, she had killed her own mother. Perhaps that was why her father and all her brothers and sisters ignored her. It wasn't because she was so young; it was punishment for existing. But then why would he still love Eluf?

"Cousin." Hanna touched Antimony's hand, drawing her from her thoughts. "I did not come merely to tell you this or to pay my respects. I came because of a tradition among my people. It comes from my father's side, so you needn't perform it yourself.

"The Sea King is descended from the Sídhe, and they have a custom of testing a human. You may be a fire elemental, but since you have not come into your own, I think you can still be considered human, at least for this." Hanna smiled warmly and reached over to take Antimony's other hand. "When I learned I had a cousin on land who had Surma's spirit, I knew at once who I wanted to test."

"All right." Antimony took a breath to steady herself. "What sort of test is it?"

"It's not hard at all," Hanna said. "In fact, with your generosity, you've already passed. In return, I'll give you this." She slipped a ring of white gold onto Antimony's little finger. "Tell no one about its powers, and it will keep you from death, but only once."

Before Antimony could thank her cousin, the mermaid rolled to the edge of the cliff and dove into the sea.


	4. Remembering

Hans was unnerved by just how similar Antimony looked to Anna. The two weren't so similar that they could have been sisters, but the resemblance was still uncanny. They both had straight red hair, though Anna's had been shorter and a lighter shade, with that strange lock of white hair on one side. They both had blue eyes, as well, though this time it was Anna who had the brighter ones. They were both pale, but Anna had freckles. Their faces were shaped differently as well, as were their bodies, and he was sure Antimony was younger than Anna had been when he met her. He didn't know how he could have confused the two when Antimony first approached his cell.

It must have been a sort of delirium, he told himself. He was prone to having painful dreams in which one or both of the royal sisters of Arendelle often appeared. Sometimes they were alive, torturing him for what he had tried to do. Other times, his thoughts returned him to when he had nearly killed Elsa. A few times he relived his defeat and saw his sword shatter on Anna. Sometimes his sword shattered Anna and he was able to kill Elsa, but the blood and ice clung to his skin and wouldn't go away. Other times, Elsa's magic rebounded on him with her death, and he froze from the inside out. During the nights before Antimony appeared, he had dreamed that Anna truly had died in his arms, that he had pressed his lips to hers and felt the chill of her last breath.

Delirium, he told himself, and nothing more. After all, he had a fever that came and went, and there were times he thought he heard voices beneath his window, though he knew there could be no one there. It didn't help that he barely got enough food to begin with and had a window that easily let in rain and snow. In the worst of the winters, he imagined it was Elsa's revenge that sent the cold and snow to him, for he didn't remember the winters being so cold when he was younger. Sometimes it was a relief to know that she was still alive, but most of the time he wanted to find some way to be free and strike her down. Once, when his fever had coincided with the worst blizzard in five years, he had stood by his window and shrieked at the storm for her to stop being such a coward and face him. He didn't remember doing this; his guard at the time, Simon Axelsen, had told him after he had recovered, laughing as he did so. It must have been amusing, seeing a former prince brought down to near madness.

He didn't understand why he felt such relief at thinking that Elsa was alive. He had been prepared to kill her in cold blood and willing to kill Anna. He shouldn't have waited for the winter each year and looked out the window for the snow; it was the only time he looked out the window now, he realized. He never looked forward to the sunshine of spring or the colors of autumn. It was always the gray and the snow of winter, and he let out a foggy breath of relief that Elsa still hated him. Perhaps it was because it meant someone still remembered that he existed beyond his guards and whoever ordered his food to be sent up to him. If Elsa remembered he was alive, then he knew he was real.

He did sometimes feel sorry for what he had done to Anna, but he didn't know if it was genuine remorse or simply seeing Antimony in her place. To see his niece slowly dying in his arms and knowing there was nothing he could do would be the worst sort of torture imaginable. If Antimony did die before him, he hoped she would die quickly.

He knew he had seen Antimony around the castle when they were both young, but she had always been kept with her brother and sisters, and he had to be with his brothers, even though it would have made far more sense to match the youngest children up while the older ones discussed politics and such. Perhaps they would have been friends, he thought wistfully, two motherless children barely a few years apart, racing through the castle together and causing all sorts of childish mischief. From what he had heard, the two siblings she did speak with the most didn't treat her as though she were an actual sister. One was cruel, and the other saw her as more of a doll than a girl, even though she was nearly old enough to be called a woman. If he had been allowed to be with her, he knew, he would have been kinder. He would have been the best friend she could have dreamed of, and she would have kept him from being treated so cruelly by his own brothers.

He knew she was motherless because he had heard so from various servants speaking, and from his brothers feeling sorry for Hjalmar. Her mother had died in childbirth, just as his had, and her father had mourned the loss of his wife, just as his had. Beyond that, their mothers had been different. His mother had been of the Southern Isles, a noblewoman from a rich mercantile family. Her marriage to his father had been one of convenience to fill the royal coffers, and his father's mourning had been more perfunctory than heartfelt. He had never even learned her name; she was simply the last queen his father had taken. Antimony's mother, Surma, however, had come from a country to the east of Arendelle. He remembered meeting her and thinking that she was kind, though rather aloof. She had spoken little, and what she had said came out with a rough accent. She had been beautiful for all her silence, with thick red hair and pale blue eyes that would prove to be so like Antimony's. He didn't know why he hadn't confused Antimony with Surma; the two of them were much more similar than Antimony and Anna.

Hjalmar had loved Surma, more than his father had loved his mother, and after Surma's death, the whole castle had gone into mourning. Hans remembered being dressed all in black for a woman he barely knew. It had been the first time he saw Antimony, as a babe in Hjalmar's arms, swaddled in black and wailing. It was his second clear memory, the first being the meeting with Surma. He wondered whether Antimony's life would have been better if she had been able to have a loving mother. It almost certainly would have, especially since Antimony would have been Surma's only child and been allowed to spend as much time as she pleased with her. Surma would have been a doting mother, and Antimony would have had a happy childhood, free from most of the responsibilities of being a princess. She would have had no need to wander through the castle and no reason to have met him.

Hans was selfish enough to be glad Surma was dead.

"You're quiet in there today," Johannes said gruffly. "Have you got a fever again?"

"I'm quiet most days," Hans replied.

"But are you ill?"

He didn't feel feverish, but he was weary. Antimony hadn't come for several days, and he suspected it was because of Johannes. The man had a reputation for being cold and heartless, and Antimony would likely have done her best to avoid him. If Johannes or one of his other foreign friends – who all looked remarkably similar – had not been constantly by his cell, she would have found time to be with him, even if it were in the middle of the night. He had enough faith in her for that. "No," he said. "I'm as well as ever."

"Good," Johannes said. "I won't have you dying under my charge."

"There's no danger of that." If there were, it would only come from Hans losing all will to live and simply fading away. He had no intention of fading, not when there was still so much to do. He was young and could still do much in his life, so long as his fevers did not grow worse or Hjalmar suddenly decide he deserved to be executed for attempted regicide. "Has Antimony come by lately?"

"Antimony? The red-haired girl?"

Hans had been lounging against the wall, but now he sat up eagerly, the sudden motion making his head spin. "You've seen her?"

"She is the one who appears once each day and looks down the hall before running off. I don't know if she is Antimony, but she is the only young woman who has come down this hall." Johannes glanced over his shoulder, just enough for Hans to catch a glimpse of the man's green eye. "She has never come down the hall that any of my men have seen. Would you like one of us to send a message to her?"

"No," Hans said, slumping against the wall, once again weary. Perhaps he was feverish; his hands and face felt as though they were burning, and a shadow fell over his eyes for a few seconds. "She's likely afraid of you."

"If you would prefer, I can ask to be traded for another guard. Perhaps you would like Niels again?" Johannes chuckled, but Hans didn't so much as smile. Instead, he hauled himself to his feet, nearly snarling and hoping Johannes didn't see how his body trembled with the effort to rise. Without Antimony sneaking him food, he hadn't been eating him nearly was well. Johannes might have a vested interested in keeping him alive, but he didn't extend that interest toward bringing him any food worth eating.

"You know better than to suggest that," Hans growled. "What is it you think I'm paying you for?"

"So far, you haven't paid me for anything," Johannes said. "My men and I are waiting for what you've promised us."

"Soon," Hans said quickly. "Soon, I swear it. You must give me time." Furious with himself for how quickly he had backed down, he added, "If it's taking too long, the blame ought to go to your men. After all, they're the ones who need to make the next steps. I can do nothing here."

"We are doing what we can," Johannes said. "Is there anything special you would like us to do with the girl?"

Hans nearly said "no", but then he thought of Antimony's pale blue eyes and her hands on his. When she smiled, it was like she was exploring a whole new expression, something she had made for him alone. She was gentle and kind, and she spoke to him as though he were a person and not simply a prince locked away. More than that, she spoke to him as though he had goodness inside him, a goodness none of his brothers had bothered to see and that even the queen and princess of Arendelle would never believe he had. He thought of the food she would bring him: freshly baked buns, pieces of honeycomb, and berries that stained her fingers and their mouths red. When he thought of her, he thought of the sweet taste of the berries, and of their hushed laughter.

"Let me see her sometimes," he said, sinking to the floor. "Not every day. A few times a week, at most. You can have Niels or Simon trade in for one of your men. Everything can wait a little while."

Johannes grumbled, but Hans paid him no mind. He needed to see Antimony again. He could even stand dealing with Niels or Simon for a few hours if it meant Antimony would come to him and smile for him with her berry-stained lips.


	5. If They Could Dance

Antimony was used to having to appear at court functions. After all, as a member of the royal family, it was her duty to at least make an appearance. She allowed her maids to dress her up in a blue gown and pin up her hair in a style far simpler and more attractive than anything Nora could have come up with. She was given a few pieces of jewelry, made from silver and sapphires. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she was surprised to find that she looked more than attractive.

She was beautiful.

There was no time to consider herself for more than that glimpse, for a servant was brought to lead her to the entrance hall. When she told him that she knew the way, he bowed deeply and walked off, leaving her to head to the hall alone. She didn't mind being alone, really; she was alone more often than not, and she had gotten used to it. It even felt strange when she wasn't alone, because then she had to find someone to be. When she was alone, she didn't have to be anyone, not even herself.

When she arrived at the hall, another servant announced her arrival. "Princess Antimony Westerguard of the Southern Isles," he called, and his voice was met by a scattering of applause. Antimony walked down the stairs and quickly vanished into the crowd.

The ball was to celebrate a treaty signed between the Southern Isles and Weselton, and the hall was filled with dignitaries and various merchants who had arrived to haggle in between dances. The Duke of Weselton was busily dancing with Annelise, who looked remarkably unimpressed, while Nora flirted with a man who looked like a wealthy merchant. Antimony would be very surprised if a wedding wasn't announced within a few months; Nora had been looking for a husband so that she could get out of the castle and have a life of her own.

Antimony, of course, wasn't asked to dance. She was looked over by a few dignitaries, but they either passed on without saying a word or left almost as soon as she mentioned that she was the tenth in line. She suspected only Nora's skill at flirting kept her from being passed over as well. After several minutes of wandering around, she was ready to head back to her room and read or go out to the garden and look around for her cousin Hanna. Perhaps she would see if there were any other magical creatures she could find. She had a great deal to learn on that count.

Then she saw Johannes standing in the dance hall, speaking quietly with one of the servants.

As soon as Antimony was safely away from the dance hall, she broke into a run, pausing only to pull off her shoes. They looked beautiful in the candlelight of the hall but chafed against her feet when she tried to move at anything quicker than a graceful walk. Even at that pace, she might have ended up with blisters on her toes and heel.

When she reached Hans's cell, the hall was empty. Smiling in relief, she hurried to his door and wrapped her fingers around the bars, coming close to touching his hands. "It's good to see you," he said with a smile. "You look beautiful."

"I had to be at a dance," she said. "I saw Johannes there and thought it might be safe to see you."

Hans smiled, but it didn't look like the sort of smile she had wanted to see on him. It was too happy, and there was a wild light in his eyes that made her want to shrink back. "I think Johannes decided to slip out for a night," he said, sounding breathless. "I got stuck with Niels, and he probably slipped off to flirt with one of the maids. I was glad enough to be alone, but now that you're here, it's even better." His hands slid down the bars to wrap around hers, and as the chill faded, she felt an almost unnatural heat from his palms. "I've missed you, Antimony."

"You're feverish," she said, and when she reached through the bars to touch his cheek, she found that it was even warmer. "Hans, what happened to you?"

"It's nothing," he said quickly, taking her hand again and pressing it before returning it to the bars. "It comes and goes."

"You ought to have a doctor see you," she said. "If your guards ignore you the way they normally do, the fever could kill you." She would lose her closest friend – her only friend, possibly. She didn't know if Hanna cared any more for her than she would for any other cousin.

"I'll be all right," Hans said. His smile was still too wild, and she saw that the shadows under his eyes had grown darker. "I'm not afraid of dying."

"I'm afraid of losing you."

For a moment, Hans stared at her as though trying to understand what she had said. Antimony didn't drop his gaze; she wouldn't take back her words. She wanted to be honest with him, more than anything else, and it would be a lie if she said or even thought that she would be all right with losing him. After several long seconds, Hans took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

"I wouldn't want to lose you either, Antimony. I've lost so much… you're all I have left." He released her hand and reached through the bars to cup her cheek. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I've just gotten so used to thinking that no one cared that it's hard for me to accept there might be someone who's life I might have any sort of effect on. I suppose I'm afraid to let myself be loved." He pulled his hand away and averted his eyes. "I'm sorry. You didn't come to hear me talking about my own problems."

"I came to see you," she said. "If that means I came to hear you talking about your problems, then talk." She caught his hand again and drew it to her lips.

"Tell me something, Antimony," Hans said, and they settled on the ground. Hans sat almost comfortably, leaning against the wall, though that could have been weakness from the fever. Antimony spread her skirt out around her, not caring that dirt might settle on the underside.

"What do you want to hear?"

"Anything, so long as it's something said by you." He moved his thumb in circles on the back of her hand. "Do you like to dance?"

"I never had anyone who was interested in dancing with me," Antimony said. "I only ever danced with the instructor and Nora." She was paired up with Nora because the two of them were closest in age, and because Annelise would take every chance to step on Antimony's toes and pull her hair.

"I'll dance with you," he said, sudden and fierce, as though daring the world to tell them they would never dance with each other. "I'll teach you every dance I know, and we can learn all sorts of new ones. Someday I'll see you without these bars between us, and we'll be happy then." The strength left his voice, and he sank against the wall again. "Do you think we could run away, Antimony?"

She had never thought about running away; it was something that women like Lucia did, women who were strong and had something to show the world. "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere. We'd get away from the Southern Isles, away from Arendelle. We could travel across the sea and find someplace that had never heard of the Westerguards." He looked up at his window and the stars that shone through it. "We'd find a place where no one cared that you were born tenth and I thirteenth, and we'd make new lives for ourselves. No one would ever ignore us again. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

To be someplace where no one would care about her brothers and sisters, or that she even had brothers and sisters… Antimony's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure any place like that could exist, but if it did, she had to find it. She wouldn't have to be Antimony Westerguard, tenth in line to the throne, or even Antimony Westerguard. She could be simply Antimony, or perhaps even find a new name for her new life. She could leave everything behind but her little ring; that was too useful for her to walk away from, even for the chance at a new life.

"Thirteenth," Hans went on, not noticing Antimony's silence. "I was always the unlucky one. Do you know who really was the luckiest of us?"

"Hjalmar?" Antimony asked, and Hans shook his head.

"You'd think so; he's the king, after all. But it's Ivar. Ivar seventh-born, the luckiest son of all. He married the loveliest woman, and even found a woman he was in love with." Hans sighed. "They called her the Queen of Spring, even though she wasn't a queen. She was only ever a princess, and even then only because he married her. Her name was Susann."

"Ivar wasn't so lucky," Antimony said. "He died from a crossbow bolt to the neck when he and Susann were out by the southern canals."

Hans nodded. "I heard. I also heard that Susann murdered him while on a gondola and blamed it on assassins. She nearly succeeded. I never learned why we didn't go to war with whichever country it was sent the assassins."

"No one ever found out where they came from," Antimony said. The story of Ivar and Susann was whispered like a legend around the castle, and she wondered whether any of it could be true.

"Or maybe Hjalmar knew there were no assassins to begin with but didn't feel like throwing his sister-in-law in the dungeon." Hans laughed, and it was the bitterest sound Antimony had heard in her life. "He must have changed his mind about not causing scandal when it was time to deal with his brother. Or perhaps he cared more about Susann than he did about me."

"Hans –"

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, turning to press his hand over hers. His green eyes were nearly wild, and she could barely make out his freckles for the feverish flush on his cheeks. "It's this place. I say I'm all right, but I've been feverish on and off for years now. I can't stay here, Antimony. It'll kill me, or drive me mad."

She had never seen him so desperate, so frightened, and she nearly shrank back. Hans must have seen how startled she looked for he drew away and averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I don't know what came over me. I understand if you'd rather leave."

"No." She reached through the bars, holding out her hand to take his. For a long time, he only stared at it. "I'm going to stay as long as I can. I won't leave you in this place."

Once he was sure she wouldn't pull her hand away, he set his palm against hers. She closed her fingers around his hand and drew him back to the bars. "Thank you," he said, and brought her hand to his lips. He held it there for a while, and she thought she saw him starting to cry.

"I'd like it if we could run away," she said after a while. "I don't know how I'd get you out of this cell, but if I could, I'd take you across the sea, someplace where they've never heard the name Westerguard."

"And I'd dance with you," Hans said. "We could dance and…" His flush grew deeper, and he looked away. "Forgive me," he murmured, though Antimony wasn't sure what she was meant to forgive.


	6. Labyrinth

Antimony twisted her gold ring around her finger. She had gone back out to her well that day after seeing Johannes standing by Hans's cell. At least they'd had the night before, and perhaps they would be able to have another night together. She didn't want that night to come immediately, though. She had spent the night having strange dreams, and when she woke, she didn't want to be near anyone. She felt as though she had gotten lost somewhere, and talking to anyone would only make it worse.

Right now, the only person she wanted to see was Hanna, and even that wasn't because she wanted her cousin's company. It was only that, if she were to see anyone, she would want to see the one person who had been genuinely kind to her, and the one person who didn't have any sort of family history with her. Maybe Hanna could guide her out of this mess.

She was careful not to take the ring off her finger. She was sure the magic wouldn't stop working just because of that – Hanna would have told her if there were more ways to cancel out the magic – but she wanted to keep it with her. It was something she had earned, even if she didn't know she had earned it, and it felt almost like a gift of love. After all, Hanna had chosen her as the first person she wanted to test, even though the two of them had never met. Surely that meant she had some kind of familial love for her, and Antimony needed to know there was someone who could love her.

She hadn't even taken the ring off when she went to bed. She had never gotten so attached to a piece of jewelry before, but this didn't feel like just any jewelry. It felt like a talisman.

If it was a talisman of any other sort than Hanna had told her about, it didn't work. Her dreams the night before had been strange and nothing like she had ever dreamed about before. She had woken in the middle of the night and lain awake, gasping and shuddering, with sweat beading on her brow and making her nightgown cling to her skin. She had gotten up early, as soon as there was enough sunlight in the castle to see, and she had gone outside as soon as she had eaten. She had wandered the grounds for an hour, trying to lose herself, and when she had returned, it had been to see Hans. She had only passed briefly by the hall before seeing Johannes, and then she had raced outside again. Once she made it out to the orchard, she realized she wasn't sure whether she wanted to see Hans at all.

He had been in her dreams that night, and thinking of them made her shiver all over, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

The castle, even with all its winding ways and secret passages, wasn't enough for her to lose herself in, and there wasn't a maze on the castle grounds. Even if there had been, she would have likely explored it all over enough to know each corner of it. What she needed was someplace new to go, somewhere she could hide and try to find herself again. She had never had any dreams like that before, in part because she had never had anyone to dream about. This was the first time any man had taken any sort of interest, and the first time she had taken any sort of an interest in a man.

But he was her uncle, she reminded herself, getting to her feet. What did it matter if they were only a few years apart in age? What did it matter if he was only her father's half-brother, and she was less related to him than one of her older uncles? What did it matter if they were even less related than some kings and queens who had wed? They were still related, even if it wasn't so close that a priest would hesitate before pronouncing them man and wife.

There had been no wedding in her dreams.

Antimony had started the long walk down from her well, but now she stopped, her cheeks turning hot. There had been no wedding in her dreams. There had only been hands, and lips, and flesh pressed against flesh, and the only heat had come from the lust between the two of them. The only fever had been that of desire, and there had been no bars to separate them. There had been no bars at all, but only the night sky, above and around them. She remembered the light from a thousand stars reflecting off their skin and into their eyes, and a breeze that had come along out of the darkness itself. Then the stars had become candles, and she had been lying on a bed, the sheets cool against her bare skin.

When she had woken covered with sweat, it hadn't been from fear. It had been from desire. The last time she had woken so suddenly, it had been with a scream of fear. She had imagined herself lost inside a labyrinth, with high stone walls and only darkness above her. There had been something else inside the labyrinth, something dogging her steps and waiting to catch her. She had been able to hear it breathing, and once she had thought she heard its footsteps. She had woken just before it caught her, and she had spent the rest of the night being pampered by Nora, who treated her like a baby, even though she had been eleven. That nightmare had come from hearing the story of a minotaur in a labyrinth that would each youths sent to it as tribute to it. Annelise had told her the story, meaning to scare her, and it had worked.

She hadn't had any reason to fear her new dreams. She hadn't even known anything like that could exist. Now that she had felt it, even in a dream, she wanted to feel it again. Still flushed, she ran to the well in the orchard and splashed some water on her face.

If she were to walk just a few yards further, she would be standing near Hans's window. It was closer than she wanted to be but not close enough. With a groan, she leaned over the well, staring down at the rippling water below. It was so far away that she could only just make it out, and she couldn't see her reflection except as a dim image of a head with hair falling past it.

There was no denying that she was in love.

* * *

Hans hadn't been able to sleep. He wasn't sure if it was the fever or the dreams he had of Antimony when he was able to doze off, but he had spent most of the night awake, staring at the wall and feeling as though he would have given anything just to close his eyes and slip into oblivion for a while. By three in the morning, he would have been willing to die just so he could stop feeling so exhausted. Of course, he didn't die, and by the time Johannes returned with his breakfast, he was shivering all over and could barely stand.

"Did you enjoy yourself at the ball?" he asked, taking the tray of food. It was more than Niels gave him, but still not quite enough. Of course, his lack of appetite meant he left half the food on the plate, which got him a look of disgust from Johannes.

"You told me to take the night off," he said. "Something about how we were making people suspicious."

Oh, yes. That had been the lie. Small details like that had been slipping his mind lately, but he was sure that once the fever went down he would be able to think more clearly. It was why he had to postpone everything for so long; he couldn't possibly make a move when he couldn't think clearly. He smiled and took a sip of water. "Did you enjoy yourself, though?" he asked, making his voice more pleasant.

Johannes didn't seem to be falling for the façade, but he said, "Well enough. There were several pretty young women there."

Hans didn't mention that he had spent the evening with the prettiest, but he felt a flush in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the fever. "Good," he said. "You deserve a break. You've been working harder than you have in your life."

Johannes glared at him before saying, "I found who you were looking for."

"Oh?" Hans scrambled to his feet, nearly falling and having to clutch at the bars for support. "We'll have a man on the outside? What's his name?"

"Claus Carlsen."

"I've never heard of him."

"Neither has anyone else." Johannes's grin was cruel, and Hans was very glad he had firmly bought the man's loyalty. "He'll be perfect for the job."

"Will I get to meet him?" He was sure the answer would be no, since if Carlsen was seen running around the castle, people might begin to get suspicious of him. But no, he realized, it would only make sense for him to have a post in the castle. That way, no one would be suspicious that he was there. "You hired him as a servant, right?"

"I recommended him to King Hjalmar," Johannes said, "and he ought to be here any moment." Johannes growled. "He should have been here already."

"And I'm sorry about that," a man gasped as he ran up. He looked like the least likely man for an assassin; he was short and slender, with thinning gray hair and narrow blue eyes. "This castle's set up like a maze. I'm surprised I could find anything around here, and what with the king running me around with errands." He wiped sweat from his brow with his sleeve and caught sight of Hans. "So, this is the prince who hired us? He doesn't look like much."

Hans decided right then that Carlsen would be dead as soon as he was no longer useful.

"What he looks like is none of your concern," Johannes said. "What matters is whether you will be able to help us."

"Oh, of course," Carlsen said. "You won't find a more competent assassin than Claus Carlsen."

Hans groaned. He was too ill and impatient to deal with this. "And does this competent assassin go around announcing himself to everyone he meets? Johannes, couldn't you have looked a bit harder for someone? I told you money was no object."

"This man has made a name for himself in the criminal underground," Johannes said. "He is a man to be feared."

Hans decided to take the guard's word for that.

"You may leave," Johannes told Carlsen. "The prince only wished to meet you and make his opinion." Carlsen saluted before turning and racing off down the hall.

With another groan, Hans sank to the floor and leaned against the wall. Everything was too warm, and he knew that even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to fall asleep. In any case, he didn't want to dream of Antimony with Johannes standing outside the cell. He didn't want Johannes to know there was anyone he felt tenderness for. If the guard thought he was interested in Antimony, then he would have to keep up the ruse that he was interested in her solely because she could be useful.

He didn't want Johannes to know that, secretly, he thought he might need her. As he slipped into an uneasy doze, Hans wondered when he would be able to see Antimony next. Perhaps he could arrange another errand for Johannes. Once the guard had left, he would be able to see Antimony.


	7. An Unknown Power

Antimony didn't have much to do. She couldn't spend time with Hans because Johannes had returned to guard him, and since neither Annelise nor Nora had found a husband at the ball – which their father was rather disappointed in, though he either didn't care or hadn't notice that Antimony had also failed to find a husband – there were no royal weddings to prepare for. There was probably some court function which would happen soon, but Antimony had long since grown tired of sitting around and listening to that sort of gossip. She spent her time exploring the castle and grounds, but since she already knew those better than her own name, she ended up reading.

Once she started, she wondered why she had stopped. It must have been because she hadn't found the right books; the last time she had spent so long in the library was when she was still being tutored, and then she needed to learn about what everyone expected her to learn rather than what she wanted. Now that her tutors no longer cared to teach her, she could read from any books she pleased for as long as she wanted without having to worry about wasting time. She soon spent hours in the library, tucked behind stacks of books, moving only to follow the light or when she noticed that she hadn't eaten for half the day. Even then, she would promise herself that she would move when she reached the end of the page, but then one page became two, then six, and then it was dark and she was nearly faint from hunger, but her mind was so full of knowledge that she didn't mind.

At first, she read whatever she could find. There were books on history that made all the wars and rebellions seem so much more interesting than her tutors had said they were, and great literature – both of the Southern Isles and translated into their language – that would fill her mind with dreams and imaginings for the whole night afterward, and poetry that she would murmur to herself just to hear the way the words felt on her tongue. For a day, she considered becoming a poet, but no matter how often she looked out at the sea or pondered true love, she simply couldn't find the right words to make everything fit the way other poets did. Besides, there was still so much to learn.

The history books didn't only cover the history of the Southern Isles. Antimony learned about the history of far-off countries, from Jugser in the south to Arendelle in the north. It was surprisingly easy to keep track of the various cultures and peoples now that she wasn't forced to memorize them, and she wondered idly if there was anything she could do with that knowledge. The thought didn't last long; her father and eldest brother likely wouldn't want to deal with a girl trying to handle foreign policy, and there were still so many books to read.

After a few days, she centered her interest on mythology. After reading a history book that started mentioning elemental spirits, she realized that, more than anything, she wanted to learn about her mother. She found whatever information on fire elementals that she could and stayed up late, taking notes until her candles had run down.

There was precious little information on fire elementals, and it seemed they weren't native to the Southern Isles. Where they were native to, she couldn't tell, but she did find two other sorts of fiery animals that might be related to them. In the Peloponnesian Archipelago, there were birds that would die in their own funeral pyres only to be reborn from the ashes. In Russkaya, where her mother had come from, there was a being called a firebird, whose feathers glowed as though ablaze. In the pictures she could find of it, it looked rather like a peafowl, but in one tale the firebird was half-bird and half-woman. Perhaps that was where she and her mother had come from.

As to the elementals themselves, it seemed they had incredible powers, most of which seemed to be lighting themselves or other things on fire. They also had a stronger connection to spirits than humans did and could communicate to creatures otherwise known as mythical.

_Could that be why Hanna chose me? _she wondered one evening as she got ready for bed. _She said it was because we were kin, but perhaps she would have chosen me anyway._

If she had seen her cousin after that day, she would have asked that, and would also have asked how she could control her powers. The thought that she might have something inside her that would become an inferno was terrifying, though she never let it show. It wasn't through fear of her own fear; though she had read reports that any sort of emotion could cause a fire elemental to ignite, she had been experiencing emotions her whole life and didn't think it possible that her powers would spring up only after she learned about them.

Learning about them did help her notice things. She had always seen flickers of movement in the halls and in the garden, but whenever she turned to look, there was nothing there. Now she was more cautious when she saw the movements, and one afternoon, she managed to catch sight of one of the creatures. It was a young man, but with two heads, seven hands, three legs, and red skin. His hair and eyes were the blackest Antimony had ever seen, and seven rays of light shone from his body, bright as fire. He sat in a chariot with parrots at the front, and when he saw that she had noticed him, he smiled.

"Greetings, Antimony daughter of Surma," he said, bowing his head in greeting.

Antimony wasn't at all sure how to respond. He looked kind yet frightening, and she had never seen a man quite so alien. After a moment, she bowed in return. "Greetings," she said, and was glad that her voice didn't shake. "I'm afraid I do not know who you are."

"My name is Agni," the man said. "I am a psychopomp, one who brings the dead from this world to the next."

Antimony's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't be doomed to die now. "What do you want with me?" _I'm only sixteen, _she wanted to say, or, _I've only just fallen in love._

The light around Agni seemed to soften, as though dimming from a wildfire to a gentle blaze. "I am not here to take you, Antimony," he said. "I am only here to pay you greetings as one fire spirit to another. It is an honor to be the first psychopomp to meet you."

"The honor is mine," Antimony said, recovering enough to remember the manners instilled in her. She wasn't sure what rank a psychopomp would be, but she would do her best to be as courteous as to a foreign king. "The first? How many more are there?"

"Many more than you could count," Agni said. "I am not of this land and have only ever come to your garden for the same reason I would come to the gardens of other spirits: to say hello."

It felt strange to hear that, as though she might sit down to tea across from a man with two heads and seven hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you, then. Have there been many other psychopomps in my garden?" It would explain the flickers of movement.

"There have. You are in no danger from them; they mean only to observe. Most are friendly enough, though they may frighten you at first." Agni rose and took the reins of his parrots. "I am afraid I must go, but I look forward to meeting you again, Antimony. We are kin, in a way, as we are both beings of fire."

She wanted to ask if he had known her mother, or if it was possible that she really was descended from a firebird, but there was a look in Agni's eyes that said he would not be detained, so instead she bowed her head and said, "Farewell, and happy journeys until we meet again."

Agni smiled, and there seemed to be flames dancing in his eyes. "Before I go, I would like to give you a gift. Give me your hand."

Antimony held out her hand, wondering what sort of gift this might be, and if she would always end up receiving gifts from mystical creatures with some connection to her. As Agni took her hand, she realized that his skin was hot, hotter than anything she had ever felt, but it did not burn her. It didn't even hurt, though she jumped when their hands caught fire and hers continued to blaze but without burning when Agni released her.

"A parting gift," Agni said, "and a promise of friendship." Before Antimony could find any words to say, he was gone, flying into the sky on parrot wings and fire.

Antimony saw no other psychopomps that day. She was too busy watching the fire in her hand. It felt right for it to be there, as though it was a part of her. It seemed it was as much a part of her as her own hand, for it rose and fell with her thoughts, just as easily as she could open and close her other hand. She didn't allow it to rise up her arms for fear it would smolder her gown – and there would surely be someone who would notice that, if only the laundresses when it was washed – but she did allow it to jump from one hand to the other, and even hover between them, though that was harder to control.

She was a fire elemental, she realized with a thrill. She was truly her mother's daughter, and Agni had given her the birthright that came with that.

When she returned inside, she was late for dinner but accepted her father's scolding silently. She had lost herself in playing with the flame, and it had been irresponsible, though she was sure she would do it again. She ate in silence and, as soon as the meal was finished, raced to the library to see if she could find a royal genealogy.

There wasn't one that would give her any details on her mother, and all she had was the family tree written into one of the books. On one page was contained her mother.

_Surma, daughter of Avgust of Russkaya, wed to Hjalmar of the Southern Isles, mother of Antimony, died of childbirth complications._

There were a few dates attached to the words, but that was all. Queen Surma was known only through her father, husband, daughter, and death. There was no mention of her fire, nor of the sort of woman she had been. Antimony read the words over and over, but they told her nothing new. She wanted to know what her mother's laugh had sounded like, what sort of fruits she had loved, how she felt when she was sent off to marry King Hjalmar. She wanted to know whether her hair had been as bright red as her husband's and daughter's and whether she had known what would happen.

She wanted her own life to be more than just her connections to three people.

With a sigh, she closed the book and put it away. As she walked through the halls, she took a candle with her and made the flame grow and shrink. The simple action made her smile, but when she reached the hall that led to Hans's cell, her smile faded until it vanished, and the flame dwindled.

Johannes was still there.

Making the candle light again, Antimony walked slowly to her room, pausing only to look out a window to the sea.


	8. Before the Thaw

He had helped them. The citizens of Arendelle would have frozen to death if it hadn't been for his help, and this was what it got him. He was locked in a cell, forgotten by his family except for one girl, and he had no doubt that in dozens of countries, the name Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles would be reviled for generations.

Hans wished there were a way he could burn everything.

"Hans?"

He ignored Johannes. The guard likely didn't have anything useful to say. He never seemed to, except when they were planning the coup, and even then there were times when he suspected he could have much better lackeys. Perhaps it was time for Johannes to be replaced. Not permanently – he didn't have the power to order deaths yet, and it would be foolish to kill his ally – but perhaps a temporary reassignment. It would give him some peace and quiet for once, especially if he got one of the guards who liked to vanish and fondle the servant girls.

He might have a chance to see Antimony.

"Hans?"

He looked up to the window, deliberately as far as he could from Johannes. It annoyed him to no end that the man had nearly the same name as he did, but then, it couldn't be helped. It also couldn't be helped that Antimony's name was so similar to Anna's, and that she looked so similar to her as well. Red hair, blue eyes, that fair skin… he cursed his luck at ever meeting either girl.

But then, perhaps Antimony could be a blessing rather than a curse. Perhaps she could help him in his coup. He had already fallen in love with her – which was more than he had done with Anna, who had been too foolish and eager to ever be his queen – and she would help him gain the throne. After all, it couldn't be too much of a chore to kill a few extra Westerguards. He was already planning on having his brothers slaughtered, so he might as well add Antimony's. There were no doubt some who would be difficult to reach, but then, so were some of his own brothers, and they would be dead soon enough. Once the line of succession had been cleared, Antimony could take the throne, and she could pardon and wed him.

"Hans?"

He groaned. Would that man never stop pestering him? "What is it you want, Johannes?" he asked. "If Carlsen wants to see me, tell him he can relay whatever it is through you. I haven't recovered from my fever." It was only light today, but he still didn't want to have to deal with the little assassin.

"It's not Carlsen," Johannes said. "He's been doing his job well."

"Then what is it that you need?" Now that he considered it, he realized that he actually was weary, so much so that he wanted to sleep. It was full dark out, and late enough that he would likely have gone straight to bed if he'd had a bed to go to.

"I saw something just a few moments ago, at the end of the hall."

"What was it?"

"I'm not sure."

Hans sighed. "Well, what did it look like?"

"It looked like the Princess Antimony holding a candle."

Hans sighed again, though he was careful to keep it to himself. It was definitely time to have Johannes leave for a night. "Are her visits so rare that you need to tell me about this one?"

"No, though she hasn't come by as frequently as she used to."

So she would betray him, too, just as the people of Arendelle had, just as his own family had all those years ago. Well, so be it. It would be easier to reach the throne with her at his side, but if she died, he could rule just as well. It would take a good bit of work to get rid of all the extra Westerguards – his family was nothing if not fertile – but they would die, and there would be no one to take the throne but him.

"That wasn't the strange part, though," Johannes said, and Hans listened half-heartedly. "The strange part was the candle."

"Was it not dark when she came this way?" he asked.

"It was, but it wasn't that she held a candle. It was the candle itself. It was lit when she came near the hall, but as soon as she saw me, the flame dimmed, as though she had extinguished it. Then, just before she left, it grew as bright as ever."

Hans shot to his feet, clutching at the bars of his cell to keep him standing. Perhaps he wasn't as well as he had thought. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You're sure that's what you saw?"

"I don't doubt my eyes, my lord," Johannes said.

Hans sank to the floor, laughing. Just when he had given up on her, Antimony gave him a reason to keep her alive. She could control fire, and if he could only make her into his ally, she could burn his enemies. She didn't seem as naïve as Anna, but he could use that to his advantage. Even though he wouldn't be able to trick her, at least not as easily, he wouldn't have to worry as much that she would lose her nerve and wind up burning everything else. He just had to get her to love him again, and all would be well.

"Hans? What's the matter this time?"

His laughter no doubt sounded completely mad for Johannes to take such an interest, but try as he might, he couldn't seem to stop. When he did, it was only because he was breathless and had tears streaming from his eyes. "Nothing," he said. "In fact, I think everything's going to work out wonderfully."

"Why? Because some draft blew the princess's candle?" When Hans looked up, he saw that Johannes was nodding thoughtfully. "That's what it must have been. A draft. I've been standing here too long, my lord," he said. "My imagination's getting too strong from being alone in this hall."

"It wasn't a draft!" Hans cried, rising again. His anger gave him strength, as it always had. "Antimony can control fire! I know it!"

Johannes looked at him, and in the faint torchlight, Hans could see that his guard thought he had gone mad. Perhaps he had. That didn't mean he couldn't take a kingdom as well as anyone else. There had been plenty of mad kings and queens through history, and he would add one to their number. He would show them the most glorious madness they could imagine. "My lord, your fever…"

"It isn't my fever!" Hans grabbed Johannes's hand. "Do I feel feverish to you?" Before the guard could respond, he said, "I need to see Antimony."

"Would you like me to fetch her?"

"No. She doesn't trust you." Hans wanted to sink to the floor again, but he knew he had to be strong. He couldn't show any sort of weakness in front of Johannes, who might be looking for any excuse to betray him. He knew now that he couldn't trust the guard. He couldn't trust anyone, not even Antimony. He would love her and use her, but if she showed even the slightest hint that she might betray him, she would have to go. "Take a night off, Johannes. Not this night; she won't come back now." Likely she had gone to get some rest, and she wouldn't be back until the next morning, if she came back at all. "Tomorrow night, or the next. Whichever of those you prefer. But find a way to make sure she sees that you're not here. That's why she came on the night of the ball."

"Why are you so anxious to see her, Hans?" Johannes asked.

_Because I love her_. "Because she can control fire!" he snapped. "If I can get her onto my side, she could be very valuable to me."

"How do you expect to get her on your side if you're plotting to murder her family?" Johannes sounded smug, and Hans wished he had a knife in his hand and no bars separating the two of them. Since he was painfully in the inferior position, he had to talk.

"They ignore her," he said. "They treat her the same way my brothers treated me, and I'm sure she hates them just as much as I hated mine."

"And if she doesn't?"

It was too dark to see Johannes's face, even if he had been facing Hans, but Hans knew his guard was smirking. "Then I'll tell her why she should." After all, she was lonely enough to seek the company of a prisoner, so it couldn't be too difficult to convince her that her family wasn't giving her the love she deserved.

"You'd poison that girl's mind?"

"Shut up!" Hans snapped, nearly shaking the bars. "Would you rather I kill her?"

"It would make sure there weren't any loose ends," Johannes said. "If you leave her alive, the people may insist that she take the throne instead of you."

"That's part of the plan," Hans said. "I'll marry her, and then I'll have the throne and access to her powers."

Johannes said nothing, and Hans knew his guard suspected he was only talking from his fever. That had faded, though, and within a few days he would be gone again. He would just have to wait until he could prove that he was lucid and clear-headed, and then he would tell Johannes his plan again. He might even be able to word it better and keep his emotions under control. If he didn't start shouting at his guard, he would sound more like the king he deserved to be.

"Just remember who pays you," Hans said, settling against the wall again. He could use a drink of water, or perhaps something cool pressed against his skin, although cold always reminded him of that false winter that Elsa had caused.

"There's no chance I'll forget," Johannes said, and Hans started to wonder if even he was planning to betray him. He would have to keep an eye on the guard, especially after he came to power. There was silence for a while, then Johannes said, "I know something that ought to cheer you up."

Hans looked up, more to humor the man than for anything else. Much as he was growing to despise him, he had to keep him happy, at least for now. "What?"

"I got word from your master assassins. They're all in position and ready to strike."

Johannes certainly did deliver on his promises. That was the best news Hans had heard in several days, possibly in his life. "Was it safe for them to write to you?" He had a set of master assassins lined up to kill his brothers, leaving Hjalmar for last. The strike on the castle would be the last of all, but it would be the strongest. The first strikes would be singular, and it would be several days before anyone realized anything was wrong.

"I assume so. They are capable, after all." Hans suspected Johannes's disapproving tone came from his dislike of Carlsen, but Hans refused to change his mind about the man. He seemed like he would be good at going unnoticed but not much else.

"I should hope so," Hans said. "If even one part of this plan goes wrong…" He let the sentence trail off, hoping Johannes would take it as a personal threat rather than the fear of uncertainty. Hans wasn't sure what would happen to him if something were to go wrong. After all, he would soon be guilty of multiple murders, if only by proxy, and if attempted murder got him thrown in a cell and forgotten about, he didn't want to think about what might happen if he failed.


	9. Master Assassins

Prince Enok was a curious man. He had very dark, wide eyes that were almost always staring at something, trying to figure out what it could possibly be. His hair was the darkest of all his siblings, so dark it looked almost purple under the right lights, but since those lights were most often found at courts, he tended to avoid them. He preferred to spend his time outside and exploring, which irked his wife to no end, for he would often arrive home with freckles all over his fair skin. She did try to convince him to keep his beard and mustache trimmed, but nothing could keep his hair from being ragged and flyaway.

He and his wife had five daughters, and it amused him to no end that a man with only brothers could have only girls. They were all quite happily married to noblemen, and he had hoped to spend the rest of his days in his botanical garden.

He did. The assassin found him there and left him lying with his throat cut beneath the lilac bush he had been looking at.

* * *

Prince Nikolaj was only a year younger than Enok, and his hair was almost exactly the same color, though no light could convince it to appear anything other than black. It was his best feature, since his lips were thin and his chin weak, but he didn't care much about his appearance. As soon as he realized that even his shorter brother Enok would have a better chance at being married than he would, he had gone into the church to become a priest. Their father had agreed it was the best possible move, since it would cement his reign as one blessed by God.

Nikolaj didn't have the strong voice of some of the other priests, but when he spoke, those closest to him felt as though an angel was speaking through his lips. He was beloved by all, so much so that the man who shot a crossbow bolt through his throat was at once dragged from the church and hung on the tree outside. Afterward, everyone involved went to another priest to confess their sin. They were given hardly any penance at all, and the body hung outside the church for days before someone took it down and burned it to be rid of the flies.

* * *

Prince Kai was something of an outcast in the family, although he never gained the infamy that Hans did. He had a passion for justice, so much so that he insisted he should have been king of the Southern Isles rather than Hjalmar. Hjalmar, knowing his brother could only bring about some passionate duel, appointed him a general and sent him out to fight his enemies.

The only problem, General Kai found, was that there weren't many enemies to the Southern Isles. He went to a great deal of trouble to look intimidating, including shaving his hair and growing a bushy mustache, but there was no one around for him to charge into battle against. His men called him Kai the Bloody more for his ruddy skin than for any blood he shed, and his green eyes proved more piercing at the fireside gambling games than in any battle, so he went rogue and took to raiding the borders, attacking anyone who looked like they might have done something wrong.

He made a great deal of enemies, and it was really no surprise that he got a knife through his brain while he bathed.

* * *

Prince Kaj, Kai's twin brother, had always hated his name, but once his brother was gone, he grew fond of it. He had the same thin, angular build as his brother, but he kept his thick red hair, even though it looked odd against his ruddy skin. He had his brother's green eyes, too, and the same reputation as a disappointment to their father. The only difference was that Kaj frequented brothels.

He wasn't spoken of much by the others, and that was how he liked it. The only times he wanted to be reminded he was royalty was when he was in a whore's bed and she called him "my prince". He drank and gambled, and everyone kept expecting to hear about his death from some disease or other. That he lived for so long confounded them, and in the end, they simply stopped caring. Not even the people spoke about Prince Kaj, and he became simply Kaj the Drunk.

Kaj the Drunk died the way everyone in the little town where he settled expected him to. He was knifed in an alley and left to bleed on the cobbles. The only strange part was how very precise the stab had been.

* * *

As soon as Prince Nikolaus saw the way the twins' lives were headed, he determined to be more like a different older brother, Nikolaj. He was, he would admit, a bit jealous that he had been given what he felt was a copied name, so he decided to do his brother one better and become not just a priest but a monk. He shaved his head and swore off the excesses of royal life and the rest of the world to live and pray in seclusion.

As he prayed, he realized that what he had done was merely an act of spite, but he soon came to truly respect his fellow monks, even if he wasn't able to venerate God. In the hopes of improving his piety, he took a vow of silence, promising himself he would not speak until he could truly believe.

When a traveler stabbed him several times in the stomach, he didn't even cry out, and as his fellows knelt beside him and blessed him, he only smiled and remained silent, though he blessed them in return with his bloodied hand.

* * *

Prince Olav took after his second oldest brother. He was fascinated by the world around him and, as soon as he could, signed on aboard a ship so he could study the seas and the life on far-off islands. The first time he returned, his brothers hardly noticed him. His brown hair was tied back in a queue, and though he had been slender before, he was now muscled, though everyone pointed out that he was still very short. His skin was sunburned, and he had a few scars, along with several specimens of plant life which he gave to Enok. He left again days later, but every time he could, he would come back to visit, bringing gifts for nearly everyone.

He had always thought he would die in a storm, and he did. The little boat was tossed about among the waves, and though Olav was nearly as able a seaman as anyone else aboard, his feet must have slipped, for he tumbled over the side and plunged into the water. He came up for air several times, but the ship was farther and farther with each moment, and he was wearying quickly.

His last thought was that he was sure he had felt someone's hands on his back.

* * *

Prince Aksel, though he was the eighth-born, had dozens of women falling in love with him. They said he looked like an angel, and he rather did, with his dark blue eyes and straight golden air. He had broad shoulders and strong arms, though he would often have hollowed cheeks from the times he spent pining over the women he fell in love with.

It was very easy for him to fall in love, and he loved all sorts of women, from boorish ones who he loved only for whatever beauty he found in them to quick-witted ones who went from laughing to somber in the space of a blink. He wrote them poetry and sang serenades outside their windows. He traveled from kingdom to kingdom, wooing and being wooed, and nearly everyone knew when Prince Aksel of the Southern Isles had arrived in their town. Men thought him too harmless to bother hiding their daughters, so he left a string of broken hearts behind him and must have had a string of his own in his chest.

He was killed in the middle of a serenade, strangled with his own harp string, and the girl he was singing to became something of a local celebrity.

* * *

Prince Hagen idolized General Kai, though he himself never rose higher than the rank of lieutenant commander in the navy. He wanted to be just like his older brother, but there was something more snappish about him than there was strong, and his ambitions were ever greater than his abilities. He was not quite as able a seaman as his brother Olav, nor as clever as his brother Enok. He didn't have the sense of duty of his brother Nikolaj. What he did have, was the sense that he was destined for great things, and that the world ought to simply give him greatness or he would tear it from the world, with his teeth if necessary.

His commanders couldn't stand him, and they shuttled him from ship to ship until one day he was found smothered in his bed by his own pillow. An investigation was launched but the killer was never found, and he was given a burial at sea, though not many people were terribly sorry he was gone. Truth be told, some of them drank to his bad fortune later that night, and the captain turned a blind eye.

* * *

Prince Vilhelm was mad. He was very nearly the youngest among his brothers, so some assumed it was almost to be expected, but the fact could not be escaped that there was something wrong with him. He wasn't mad in an obvious way, but more in the way that there was a shadow lying across his mind. He grew anxious easily, and there always seemed to be the danger that he would drown himself someday. Some girls thought he was poetic, with his large eyes, but others didn't quite see it. His red hair was a bit too bright, and he seemed too happy some days to be thought truly mad, so the girls kept their hearts for Aksel.

It didn't come as much of a surprise to anyone that he died with his throat cut and a bloody knife in his hand, though no one could remember ever seeing him with that knife before, and though some could explain why his mirror was broken – he hadn't wanted to see his face again – they didn't understand why the window was shattered as well. No one bothered investigating, though, for there was nothing to be done.

* * *

Prince Salomon was so named because his father had hoped he would be wise. Instead, he proved to be precise. He woke at exactly the same time each morning and followed an exact routine. He wore his black hair very short, and the only thing about him that might be even slightly unconventional was his dark eyes, but he kept those so narrow that there was no chance of even the slightest bit of light or life escaping them.

It was difficult for the assassin to reach him, despite knowing his schedule, and in the end, the assassin had to capture him from his journey home and lock him in a basement, where he starved to death, the assassin having been called away to other business. When Salomon was found, he looked ragged, as though he had been tearing himself apart in his desire to escape.

* * *

And so the Westerguard brothers were winnowed down to two: Hjalmar and Hans. One sat on his throne, as yet unaware that anything was wrong, governing his kingdom and living a comfortable life.

The other waited in a cell, half-dead from fever and half-mad from isolation. He lived for revenge and a red-haired princess.


	10. The Closest Friendship

Kristoff was exhausted.

It wasn't from being Arendelle's Chief Ice Supplier, or whatever the full title Elsa had given him was. While it was a lot of work to make sure all the ice was delivered to whoever needed it, he hadn't had much trouble with that after the first year. It didn't take a great deal of trouble to hire most of the ice cutters who had worked with him before – though some refused as a matter of pride – and soon he had a fairly efficient system set up, which he was quite proud of. The physical labor wasn't hard at all, or at least, it was no harder than it had been for most of his life. His sleigh carried the ice easily, and Sven was as strong as ever, though he was starting to show his age. Kristoff had taken to breaking in new reindeer, a pair of females he called Aina and Hedda. They were a sweet pair, but he was careful to only work with them when Sven wasn't around. Sometimes he thought the old reindeer might get jealous.

It wasn't from being Anna's betrothed, either. It could hardly be, since despite her eagerness and excitability, they had decided to take their time with the relationship. It had taken over a year for Anna to ask whether they might want to someday be married, and since she had told him to take his time with his response, he had spent a week up by a frozen lake, thinking it over. When he did return to say he would be thrilled to marry her, she had flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. Elsa had given them her blessing, but she had said the wedding might take some time to plan. She must have seen the look of surprise on his face, for she added that it wasn't anything to do with grandeur but simply that it was rather unprecedented for someone of common blood to marry a princess, even a princess who was second in line for the throne. It would take time to arrange everything, and since Elsa wasn't about to threaten unleashing her ice magic on anyone who disagreed, Kristoff decided it would be for the best to get everything done properly. It was nice to be in Arendelle and know that he wouldn't have a great many responsibilities laid on his shoulders.

What had him exhausted was the combination of being the Chief Ice Supplier and the betrothed to the princess. He was expected to appear at court functions, or as many as he could be available for, and the clothes he had to wear were the most uncomfortable things he had ever felt. Anna assured him he would get used to them, but since he arranged to be out handling the ice business whenever there was some kind of court function, he hadn't had much time to feel like the clothes belonged on him.

Still, he had to admit he looked good, especially in the dark greens that Anna chose especially for him. Her color was green, and the citizens of Arendelle seemed to agree. Many of them called her the Summer Princess, in contrast to her sister the Winter Queen. Kristoff supposed that would make him the Summer Prince, once they were married. There were whispers of who would become the Winter King, but many of those fell silent when the speakers remembered what had happened the last time someone of royal blood had tried to marry into the royal house of Arendelle. The citizens still hadn't forgiven Prince Hans, and there was still animosity against the Southern Isles as a whole, even though King Hjalmar insisted his brother had been properly punished.

That animosity was why Kristoff found himself dressed in a crisp set of dark green clothes. The Southern Isles still hadn't been able to send an ambassador who would meet Elsa's rigorous standards, and most of them fled after a week for fear they would bring on an eternal winter. A new hopeful had arrived just two days ago, and today was his official announcement to the court. There were already bets as to how long he would last. The most hopeful gave him twenty-five days; Kristoff thought he wouldn't last three.

Someone knocked at his door and he turned, halfway through figuring out all the tiny buttons on his shirt. He had dismissed his servant, saying he could dress himself, but now he thought he could use someone with tiny fingers to help him finish the buttons. "Come in," he called, secretly hoping it would be Anna. They had precious little time alone together, and he almost wished something would happen to send them out into the mountains together.

The door opened, and Kristoff's heart sank a little. It wasn't Anna, nor was it a servant with nimble fingers. It was Olaf, and while he was fond of the little snowman, he had been hoping for someone whose knowledge of buttons extended past the kind made of snow. "Hello!" the snowman said, and Kristoff couldn't help smiling, even though the snow cloud that followed Olaf everywhere would leave damp spots on the carpet. "Are you ready to meet the ambassador?"

"Nearly," he said, fumbling with the buttons again. He managed to fit another into the correct hole. "Why do they have to make these buttons so small?"

"Hey, those are pretty small," Olaf said, peering up. "Or maybe your fingers are just pretty big. Why didn't you have a servant help you with those? Anna has someone to lace up her corset."

"I thought I could dress myself on my own," Kristoff said. With a groan, he pulled on the coat. Perhaps if he closed that, no one would notice that he hadn't managed to handle his buttons. "I'll get a servant to help me next time."

"Are you ready now?" Olaf asked, turning and walking to the door. "Everyone's waiting for you."

"What?" Kristoff hastily buttoned the coat shut and sprinted for the door, not bothering to close it. "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"It didn't seem important. Oh, how long do you think this one will last? I think… almost three weeks. He seems nice."

Kristoff didn't answer but raced through the halls, stopping only once he had reached the hall Elsa used to hear petitions and greet dignitaries. Fortunately for him, there was a side door, and he was able to slip in largely unnoticed and work his way through the back of the crowd to Anna's side. At least, he thought he was unnoticed. With each step, he grew more and more certain that every eye was on him and that people had been muttering about how late their Summer Prince was.

Anna had certainly noticed he was late. As he drew closer to her, she whispered, "What took you so long?"

"I had trouble with the buttons," he whispered back.

"Just get a servant to deal with it," she hissed. "And be glad Elsa's been working on being patient. You wouldn't have wanted to be late before… well, you know." She grimaced, and Kristoff glanced up at Elsa. She looked as regal and imperturbable as ever, but he didn't want to anger her. Though she had been cheerful, there were also days when she would lock herself away and see no one.

"Right," he muttered before glancing out at the hall. There were the usual guards, and standing right in the center was a beady-eyed man with black hair and very dark skin. He was tall and broad-chested, and his face was open and peaceful. Olaf had been right; he did seem nice. "He doesn't look like he's from the Southern Isles," he murmured to Anna.

"Not all of them are pale and red-haired," Anna whispered. "How long do you think he'll last? I give him two weeks, if he's lucky."

Kristoff sighed and fidgeted. The sooner this man had finished being announced, the sooner he could change into comfortable clothes, and maybe there would be time for him to slip out into the gardens with Anna. His ice business was at its busiest for the year, and he rarely had even an hour for himself.

The dark-skinned man went down on one knee. "Your Grace," he said, "my name is Anders Robertsen, ambassador to Arendelle from the Southern Isles. It is an honor to be presented before your court."

"It is an honor to have you here," Elsa said. "Why were you, among your people, chosen to be the ambassador to Arendelle?"

"Because I have given your people no reason to be angry with me," he said. "I come from a small family, one that is unconnected with the Westerguards, and they thought I would give no offense. I am a student at the university in the Southern Isles, and since I know a great deal about Arendelle, Mathias Hansen thought I would be perfect for the task."

Kristoff glanced at Anna, confused, and she murmured, "He's the head of the ambassadors from the Southern Isles."

If Elsa was pleased or displeased with this news, she gave no hint. "Do you know how long your predecessor lasted, Mr. Robertsen?"

"Five days, Your Grace," Anders said, and he faltered a little. His voice had been steady up until now, but he looked as though he was about to start trembling.

"Do you know why he only lasted five days?" Elsa asked.

"Because he was afraid, Your Grace," Anders said. He looked as though he had managed to recover, but Kristoff saw the fear in his eyes and knew. This man wouldn't be their ambassador. Even if he did last longer than the twenty-five days someone had suggested, he would eventually break. "He was afraid you would be angry and send a winter to the Southern Isles."

Elsa took a few steps down from her throne, so she stood on the floor of the hall. "Are you afraid of me, Mr. Robertsen?"

"I… I…" Anders faltered, and if Kristoff hadn't known it before, he did now. The man would never be their ambassador. He would go back to the Southern Isles and be sent somewhere more pleasant, somewhere the queen wasn't willing to terrify people from his country. "Yes, Your Grace."

Elsa didn't show whether she was pleased or displeased by this. She merely turned to one of the guards and said, "Please show Mr. Robertsen to his rooms. I will speak to him tomorrow to learn what has happened in the Southern Isles during the time when we didn't have an ambassador." As the guards escorted Anders away, she turned and walked back to her throne. "If there is nothing else needed from me, you are all dismissed."

Murmuring, the guards and others dispersed, until Anna and Kristoff were the only ones left. "He seems nice," Anna said after a moment. "It's too bad he's afraid of you."

"I'm afraid it can't be helped," Elsa said with a sigh. "Sometimes it seems that everyone is. I suppose there are worse things than to be feared." She shook her head and got to her feet, though she had only sat down a few minutes before. "Someday, we'll have an ambassador who isn't afraid to look me in the eye."

"That will be nice," Anna said. "I know you've been looking forward to actually talking to someone from the Southern Isles."

Elsa smiled a little. "Don't let me hold you two back from enjoying yourselves. It's a beautiful day. Kristoff, you ought to take Anna out on the lake. The water looks beautiful today. In the meantime, I'll handle a few more things around here." She looked in the direction Anders had been taken. "You know, I think he'll last about four weeks. Longer would be nice, but he doesn't seem strong enough to last a full month. What do you two think?"


	11. The Gates

The castle of Arendelle was guarded by a pair of large wooden gates that looked as though they could have shut out the world. From what Anders understood, they had done just that for three years, keeping the then-Princess Elsa shut away for fear of what she might do with her powers. Now, they were always open, on the queen's orders, and had been open for two years. Not even the chill of winter could force them closed, but then the queen was stronger than winter.

Anders stood under the gates for the second time in his life. The first time had been when he was first brought to Arendelle to serve as the ambassador from the Southern Isles. The gates were meant to welcome one and all into the castle, but he couldn't shake the intimidation that slipped over his spirit when he passed through them. He had wanted to be strong, but looking up at the queen's cold blue eyes had only brought that fear back, and he knew he couldn't stay in Arendelle. He would try, for he didn't want to disappoint Master Hansen, but in time – in twenty-five days, he thought – he would falter and have to leave.

That time proved to be far less than twenty-five days. Less than a week later, he stood beneath the gates for the second time in his life, looking up at them. They seemed just as intimidating this time, despite the sunlight and the children racing about eagerly.

"Is something wrong?"

Anders nearly jumped out of his boots when he heard the queen's voice just behind him. "Your Grace," he gasped when he had nearly recovered, and he dropped to one knee. "Forgive me. I did not expect you."

"There's no need for forgiveness," she said, and when he glanced up, he saw her smiling. "What's the matter, Mr. Robertsen? It hasn't even been three weeks since you arrived here. It's barely been one, and you're already planning to leave?"

"I'm afraid I must," he said. "I've received troubling news, and I want to return to the Southern Isles in case I should be needed. I know now that I should have asked your permission before preparing to leave, but I was rather distressed by the news, and –"

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Please rise. I'd rather be able to look you in the eye."

He got to his feet and found that he still couldn't quite look her in the eye, but this time because he was too tall. She seemed far kinder than before, and he couldn't tell whether it was because of the sunlight or because her smile looked genuine. "Your Grace, I would like your permission to return to the Southern Isles for a time."

"Of course," Queen Elsa said. "Would you share the news you received? If there's anything I can do to help, I'll see to it that it's done."

"Thank you, Your Grace," he said, pulling a letter from his pocket. It had been given to him the night before by a servant, and he had barely been able to sleep after reading it. He'd read it and reread it for hours, trying to find some message of hope, but there was none. "The members of the royal family of the Southern Isles are being murdered. So far, the only two alive are King Hjalmar and… and Prince Hans." He hesitated before speaking, but Queen Elsa didn't seem angry at him for speaking the name of the prince who had tried to kill her. "With all due respect, I think I would be more useful there than here."

"I understand." Her eyes had widened for a moment, but now she looked every inch the powerful queen. "Stay there as long as you need. If you would like your place back after this has all cleared up, I will keep it open for you."

"Thank you, Your Grace," he said. "I'm not sure when I'll be able to return…" He didn't want to say that he didn't want to return. Even though the queen was being kind now, he had heard enough stories to make him wary, and he couldn't escape the shadow the gates had thrown over him.

"I understand," she said again. "I'm sure you'd like to travel on the fastest ship we have."

"If it's possible, Your Grace."

"Come this way." She gestured for him to follow her and led him down to the docks. "What do you know of the murders?"

"They all happened at nearly the same time," Anders said. "Some could have been coincidence or accident, but almost all of the brothers… it must be a group of master assassins sent to kill them. The only question is who is behind this."

"Could it be Hans?" Queen Elsa asked.

"Impossible," Anders said. "With respect. He's been locked up since his return to the Southern Isles and has had no contact with anyone but his guards."

The queen frowned, but the expression quickly passed. "Someone must be working from the outside then, to bring down the Southern Isles. If King Hjalmar needs any aid from Arendelle, tell him that he must only ask and I will do everything I can. I want to cement a friendship between our kingdoms."

"Thank you, Your Grace." He bowed as they stopped beside a sloop.

"This is the _Hellracer,_" she said. "She's the fastest ship in Arendelle, and she should get you to the Southern Isles in five days. Captain Jacob Ovesen will see to it that you arrive safely. Captain?" She walked a few steps up the gangplank. "Captain Ovesen? Are you there?"

"A few moments, Your Grace," a man called. Four minutes later, a sandy-haired man stumbled out, tucking his shirt into his trousers. He was short and thin, with sunburned skin and a forehead that looked high from his receding hairline, but his smile was wise, and as he bowed to Queen Elsa, she smiled in return. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to return Anders Robertsen to the Southern Isles as quickly as possible. A dangerous situation has arisen, and he needs to return home."

"Of course, Your Grace," Captain Ovesen said. "Mr. Robertsen, if you would come aboard quickly. We can still catch the tide, and I'll have you there before you can even start to get seasick."

Anders started up the gangplank but stopped and dropped to one knee before the queen. "Your Grace, I can't thank you enough for this. If there's any way I can ever repay you for what you have done for me – for what you have done for the Southern Isles –"

"You can see to it that order is restored to the Southern Isles." She set a hand on his shoulder and gently pulled him back to his feet. "If you choose not to return, I'll understand, but I'd appreciate it if you sent word back before we got another ambassador. I don't like to be kept in the dark about anything."

"I understand," Anders said. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Go."

* * *

The journey to the Southern Isles was as swift as Queen Elsa had promised. The crew of the _Hellracer _was annoyed at having to leave port so quickly, but Anders did his best to help them. He had never served aboard a ship before, but the sailors were happy to have someone so eager to help, and he found himself scrubbing the deck and handling laundry. Before arriving at Arendelle, he would have rebelled at being given such menial tasks, but he was no longer so proud. The queen hadn't broken his spirit, but his fear had made him humble.

In any case, working made the journey feel quicker. If he'd had nothing to do, he would have spent the five days fretting and waiting to arrive at the palace, constantly fearing that he would be too late. There was always some task or other that the sailors found for him, however, and when his mind was on his aching limbs and what more he had to do, the day seemed to fly by.

His time on the ship wasn't all drudgery. Captain Ovesen offered to teach him something of seafaring, and he did learn how to work a sextant and the difference between the sails. Still, his mind wasn't present enough for him to learn much of anything, and the captain frequently gave up less than an hour into the lesson. Anders didn't mind that he wasn't learning much; he was too worried about what he would find when they reached the Southern Isles. Though he was traveling as quickly as he could, he had no doubt the master assassins were doing the same, and they might be close enough to kill the king and his family, down even to the very youngest princes and princesses. If he didn't reach them in time, the entire royal family might be wiped out. That was the fear that kept him awake at night, despite his weariness and the gentle rocking of the ship.

Who would want to destroy an entire family? What would it gain them? The only reason he could think would be war, and there were no countries that hated the Southern Isles enough to do that. The closest thing they had to an enemy was Arendelle, and even that was simply a cold relationship because of what Prince Hans had done. No one blamed Queen Elsa for not forgiving him. If someone had tried to kill Anders's sisters, he doubted he would forgive the man either.

There had to be something he had overlooked. Perhaps there was a far-off country… but no, that would be ridiculous. The only people who might benefit from chaos in the Southern Isles would be the nearby countries, unless there were people who wanted the whole region to devolve into chaos. He had heard of roving tribes of marauders far to the east, and it was possible that they might want to destabilize the region before launching their attack and laying waste to every country. But he hadn't thought they were organized enough to do anything that powerful.

His thoughts kept him awake for hours each night, and as he lay there, he wondered if there was some other reason that the Southern Isles didn't entirely trust Arendelle. The only reason he could think of for that was Queen Elsa. She could control winter, but she was also a woman, and for all he knew – since the Southern Isles had always been ruled by a man – his country didn't trust a woman to be in charge of a kingdom.

Someone would have to find a way to stop that. Perhaps that could be his task, his reason for remaining in the Southern Isles.

By the time the _Hellracer _reached the Southern Isles, Anders was worn out from working and barely sleeping. The only respite he had was that he hadn't been seasick, and even that felt like little more than a matter of luck. His ancestors, after all, had been seafarers from farther south, and it was only right that he should take easily to a boat. Still, he was glad to get off it when Captain Ovesen brought the _Hellracer _to a dock. Anders could see the castle from there, and he barely waited for the captain to lower the gangplank before disembarking and racing for the castle.

He had to be there in time. If anything happened to King Hjalmar or Prince Hans, the kingdom would have to rely on Prince Morten to take the throne, and he would likely be the next person to be assassinated. The killers would work their way through the royal line until the Southern Isles – Anders's home – was left in anarchy. He wouldn't let that happen, not while he was still strong enough to fight for his people and the place where he had grown up.


	12. The Sweetest Smile

Antimony heard a faint scratching at her door and set aside her book to investigate. She had been reading more about elementals, and the work had been so engrossing that at first she hadn't noticed the noise. By the time she found her bookmark, she couldn't tell whether it had been going on for seconds or minutes. She couldn't think who would scratch at her door rather than knock and announce themselves, and, fearing something was wrong, she grabbed the little knife Morten had given her a few years ago.

When she opened the door, Nora slumped in, blood spilling onto the carpet. She was so still and pale that Antimony knew her sister was as good as dead, even if she hadn't stopped breathing yet. There was no sign of her killer, but he couldn't have gone far, and Antimony stepped out into the hall, clutching the knife. She didn't know where she would go or what she would do when she got there, but she knew she had to move.

Everywhere she went, there was death. Servants and guards alike had been slaughtered, and a glance out a window showed her Annelise's body draped over a bench in the garden. Bile rose up her throat, and she stumbled back, pressing herself against a wall. Even if she had never been fond of her family and they had never been fond of her, they were still Westerguards, and she remembered her father's words from all those family gatherings when various aunts, uncles, and cousins would appear at the castle.

_"We are Westerguards,"_ he would say in his deep voice, silence falling over the family when he spoke. _"We stand together as one."_

He would have been the first target, but she still had to find him. Her heart pounded like a fist against her ribs as she ran down the hall and to the stairs. She wouldn't let whoever was attacking her family kill everyone. She would save someone.

Her father was in the throne room, as he usually was, but he didn't turn his head when she called for him. A thick arrow had pierced through his throat and pinned him to the throne, his eyes still wide in shock. Antimony nearly dropped her knife, but her hand clenched around the hilt again when she heard someone shouting her name.

"Antimony! For God's sake, run!"

Her brother was still alive. Morten stood in the middle of the throne room, fending off two attackers with a sword. His shirt was torn and his black hair clung to his face. His normal solemnity was replaced with terror, and he looked at her with wide gray eyes. His skin was paler than ever, and a thin trickle of blood stood out against his hollow cheek. His chest heaved with the effort of holding off the two men, and when Antimony took a step forward to help, he shook his head.

"I can handle this," he said. "Get to safety! If you can find Anders Robertsen, he'll help you escape."

"They killed Nora," she called, taking a step back. "They killed Annelise."

Morten snarled and lunged, stabbing one man through the chest as the other slashed open his arm. "Go! I won't lose you, too!"

She fled.

Anders Robertsen was a stranger to her, and she wouldn't have known where to look for him, but she did know where she had to go next. One of the men attacking her brother had been Johannes, and if the Westerguards were in trouble, then Hans would be in danger. He was trapped and defenseless, and even if the attackers had already reached him, she had to try to save him. There had to be some member of her family who was still alive, and she wanted it to be the one who cared about her.

The hall leading to his cell was empty, and she paused at the end, shaking. If he was already dead… if she went to his cell and found only his body, bleeding onto the stone… "Hans!" she cried, taking a few steps forward. "Hans, are you there?"

"Antimony?" His voice was faint, but she could hear him. "Is that you?"

"Are you hurt?" She took a few more steps, faster this time. "Someone's killed my father and sisters. I need to get you out of here."

"Antimony. Oh, God, please…"

She ran to his cell only to find the door open and a huddled mass on the floor in the back corner. Her heart didn't stop – it would have taken much more to do that – but she felt as though all the air had left her body, and all she could do was take a few steps forward. She knew what she would find if she pulled aside the blanket. Hans would be dying, and there would be nothing she could do except try to get him to whoever Anders Robertsen was, and she didn't know if she was strong enough. She would lose the one family member who truly cared for her, and she was helpless to keep him alive.

Her knife slipped from her hand and clattered on the floor. "Hans?" she whispered, not daring to touch the blanket. She knelt beside it half from wanting to reach out to him and half because her legs wouldn't hold her up any longer. He was the last of her family. She couldn't lose him.

"I've been dreaming about this day," someone said from behind her, and she heard the cell door slam closed and lock.

Scrambling to her feet, she saw Hans standing in the hall, holding a crossbow in his hands. He looked pale, almost deathly ill, but there was a bright flush along his cheeks and a mad light in his eyes. His clothes hung off him, and his red hair was in disarray. It was his smile, though, that chilled Antimony. There was no love in that smile, no joy, only a savage thrill. She wondered how he could hold the crossbow so steadily.

"I was sure you'd come back to save me," Hans said. "I didn't think it would take you so long. Were you hiding from the assassins? I thought you were bolder than that. But then, you avoided Johannes, so I shouldn't expect too much."

Antimony felt as though she couldn't breathe. "Did you do this?" she whispered.

"Not all of it, but it was my plan. I ensured the death of my dear older brothers, and just as the day was coming for Hjalmar to die, I realized that there would be no chance anyone would accept me on the throne. I would have to kill your family, too. I didn't think you would mind, much." He smiled again, a mad, terrifying smile. "After all, if they treated you even half as poorly as mine treated me, you would be glad to have them dead. We could rule together, king and queen of the Southern Isles."

She couldn't afford to shake her head or try to deny him. "So let me out."

Hans continued as though he hadn't heard her. "I thought you would be a wonderful queen, since you can control fire, but now I'm not so sure. I think I ought to just kill you and get it over with, to leave no chance that I'll lose the throne." He took a step to the side, pointing the crossbow quarrel straight at her heart. "This time, I'll make certain you're dead."

"Johannes is dead!" Antimony said. There was nowhere for her to run, and she couldn't feel even a hint of fire inside her to call. "Morten killed him!"

She thought she saw a flicker of dismay on Hans's face, but then it was gone. "No matter. Morten will be dead soon." Then he fired, and twin pains shot through Antimony. The first was in her chest as the bolt broke through skin and bone, going through her body to emerge from her back. The second was on her little finger and felt like a circle of fire.

* * *

Morten didn't have time to see if Antimony had run. He was bleeding from at least three different wounds, and there was still one attacker to finish off, although he couldn't be too difficult. After all, he was only one man, and even wounded, Morten knew he was more than a match for him. The rest of the fight was almost anticlimactic, as the man tried only two parries, both of which failed miserably. Once the second attacker had fallen, Morten turned and ran for the door, trying to find Antimony.

If what she had said was true, then she was the only family he had left.

She wasn't with Anders; a glance to the docks was enough to tell him that. Praying those two had been the last attackers, he set off to search the castle. Perhaps she had found a place to hide that would keep her safe until he could find her.

"Sire!" One of the guards – Niels, he thought, but it was hard to be sure – ran up to him and bowed quickly. "I'm glad to see you're all right."

Morten glanced down at his blade, still dripping blood onto the floor. He didn't have time for pleasantries or relief. "Do you have anything to report?" he asked, and Niels at once snapped to attention.

"I'm afraid there is some distressing news, Sire. Prince Hans has escaped from his cell."

"What?" He hadn't known Hans very well; his uncle was several years younger than he was, and they were of different generations in two different ways. "How?"

"I'm not sure, Sire. Johannes was meant to be watching him."

Morten cursed. The guard was likely the one he had been fighting; his face had looked familiar. The man must have been a traitor. "Let's find him. Are there any other assassins in the castle?"

"I don't believe so, Sire," Niels said, trying to keep up as Morten broke into a run. "Many of the guards were killed, but I believe the castle is safe."

"Good. Let's find my uncle."

* * *

Hans was surprisingly easy to find. Morten found him on a stairwell, heading down to the throne room. His uncle had a crossbow, and the bolt he fired tore a gash in Morten's unwounded arm, but it took too long to reload, and Morten was able to disarm him. He was too weak to fight hand to hand, so Niels took charge of the traitor, and Morten led the way back to the cell.

"I have no doubt you're behind all this," he said. "You'll hang for murder and treachery as soon as I can get this country under control enough to try you. It'll be a fair trial, but they'll find you guilty. I have no doubt of that."

Hans said nothing. If he had, Morten would likely have slit his throat.

The cell door was closed, and Morten was about to throw Hans in the nearest open one when he saw a body lying on the floor. It was a girl with bright red hair and a crossbow bolt sticking out of her chest. There was blood all over her dress and the floor, and her skin was deathly pale, even paler than it normally was. For what felt like several minutes, it felt as though there was no air in the room. When he finally could speak, his voice came out in a faint rasp.

"Open the door."

"Sire, the traitor might escape."

"It doesn't matter. Open the door."

As soon as Niels had unlocked the door, Morten ran to his youngest sister's side. The bolt looked as though it had gone straight through her heart, but when he set a hand on her wrist, he felt a faint pulse. His gasp of relief became a sob, and he drew Antimony toward his chest, weeping into her hair.


	13. His Worst Fear

Antimony was alive, but only just. The doctor said it was a miracle that she had survived, since the crossbow had pierced her heart and gone all the way through, even severing her spinal cord. It was possible she would never walk again, if she ever woke at all. Everyone expected her to die within hours, but somehow, she managed to survive, though her eyes remained closed and her body still. She was deathly pale, and at times Morten thought he could feel her pulse failing beneath his fingers. He had to be reminded to eat, and only his own exhaustion could send him from her bedside. Even then he would stumble back as soon as he woke, determined not to leave his little sister.

"Sire? Sire, may I have a word?"

"Huh?" He looked up, blinking through his exhaustion. He wasn't sure how long he had been awake, but he had been starting to doze off so much that he imagined Antimony's eyes had been flickering open. The man standing above him had broad shoulders and a large nose, and he looked familiar, though it was a long moment before Morten recognized him. "Lauritz?"

"Yes, Sire," the man said. "I've been sent to make sure you're all right."

"I'm fine," he replied, turning his attention back to Antimony. He hadn't had enough time to see her in the years before aside from family gatherings, and even then she'd always vanished quickly, before he had a chance to do more than say a few words to her. He hadn't paid her a great deal of thought – she was, after all, the youngest of ten – but he had always noticed her and tried to have a smile and a kind word when they did interact. Now she was his last sibling left alive, and she might die at any moment.

"Sire? Did you hear me?"

He blinked again and looked up at Lauritz. "I told you, I'm fine," he said, anger rising up through his chest to his throat. It was almost enough to make him choke and certainly more than he'd had in his throat for the past several hours. He couldn't even remember what the last thing he'd eaten was. It had been something plain and vaguely filling, but not enough to let him stand. It might have been broth of some kind, or perhaps a mincemeat pie. "What are you still doing here?"

"I'm here to get your answer, Sire," Lauritz said. He looked nervous, which was all for the best. Morten liked his servants to be on edge; it meant he had the power in the relationship.

"Answer to what?" His free hand went for his rapier. He didn't mean to run Lauritz through, but he would at least give the man a new scar, somewhere he would always be able to see it. Perhaps a thin mark across his cheek would do the trick.

"I asked you another question, Sire," Lauritz said. "When would you like us to arrange your coronation?"

The coronation. Everyone seemed to be talking about that, and Morten could hardly think why. What did it matter if the Southern Isles had no king? He was the last of the Westerguards, and unless he married, he would have to find someone suitable to be his heir, or there would be chaos. There wasn't anyone he particularly wanted for an heir, and at the moment he didn't care much if the kingdom was overrun by another. "It doesn't matter," he said. "Do what you think best." His hand drifted away from his sword and he wondered whether Antimony's breathing looked slower than it had the past few days. He thought it might, but then, his head was swimming so much he could hardly tell anything.

"Sire, with all due respect it does matter. The people of the Southern Isles need a king, and they need a king who can be strong, and not…" Lauritz's voice trailed off, but Morten knew what the man had been about to say. His people needed a king who could be strong, not one who sat for days weeping over his dying sister. But what did they know? What would they understand? None of them had lost their family.

"Get out," Morten said, his hand returning to the hilt of his sword. Lauritz was lucky he was only a servant; if he had the power to insist on laws and regulations, he would be dead already.

"Sire, I…" Lauritz took a step back as Morten rose and drew his rapier. The man's blue eyes were wide, and he lifted his hands as though to assure Morten that he didn't have a weapon. As Morten lowered his rapier so the point rested on Lauritz's chest, the man took another step back and said, "Sire, there's no need to stab me. Please, reconsider."

"I told you to get out. If you think I didn't mean it, then you can feel free to stay." Morten flicked his sword, and the tip tore a small hole in Lauritz's uniform. "I don't know what you thought of me before, but I assure you, Lauritz, I'm a very dangerous man, and not one to be crossed."

"I understand that, Sire," Lauritz said, bowing and only narrowly avoiding having his cheek opened up by Morten's sword. "I will give you some time to consider this." Before Morten could say anything or even dismiss him, the man turned and hurried out, pausing only to nod at the nurse and guard who stood by the door. Then he was gone, and the door had only just closed when it opened again, this time to admit Anders Robertsen. He appeared completely unperturbed by the naked sword in Morten's hand and simply bowed after stopping three steps into the room.

"I hope this isn't a bad time, Sire," he said as he rose. "I've been trying to get an audience with you for days, but I was always rebuffed. In the end, I decided to take matters into my own hands."

"I'm not in a fit state to have an audience with anyone, Robertsen, as I'm sure you can see." Morten kept his sword out and pointed directly at the ambassador's chest, though he wouldn't have been able to reach it even with a lunge. He doubted he would be able to lunge well without falling over; simply standing up for this long was taking a toll. "Shouldn't you be in Arendelle? What are you doing back here?"

"When I got word of your uncles being killed, I realized that I would likely be needed in the Southern Isles more than I was in Arendelle. I'm sorry I didn't arrive in time to help."

"There was nothing you could have done," Morten said. "You would only have been killed." If Antimony had reached him, he could have taken her to safety, but she hadn't even been heading toward the docks. The girl was a fool, but he wouldn't fault her for that, not now that she was dying.

Robertsen took a few cautious steps forward. "Sire, I think there is something I can do, now that I'm here. Queen Elsa gave me leave to go once she heard what had happened, and I promised her I would try to make relationships between our kingdoms more friendly. She asked me to pass on the message to King Hjalmar that he only needed to ask for her aid and she would do everything she could, and I'm sure she'd be willing to offer you the same."

Something about the queen of Arendelle made Morten feel as though there were spiders crawling along the back of his neck, and he was sure that something was the fact that she could cause winter to occur in the middle of summer with nothing but a whim. "I don't need her aid," he said.

"Sire, if the rumors that Prince Hans is behind all this are true, then you and she share a common enemy. I have no doubt that she would be willing, even happy to help you track him down."

Hans had escaped. Morten had nearly forgotten about that. He had slipped away when Niels opened the door to the cell where Antimony lay, and no one had been able to track him down. It had hardly seemed important at the time, and there were moments when capturing him felt like nothing more than a dream. "He won't last long," he said. "There are two kingdoms out for his blood now. He'll turn up eventually."

"With all due respect, Sire, your uncle is known for being clever and, well, rather slippery. It's possible he's managed to escape your grasp."

"Then let him escape!" Morten slashed the air with his sword, and the blade made a satisfying whipping noise as it moved. "I want nothing more to do with him."

Robertsen's eyes grew wide, and he took a few hurried steps forward. "Sire, the lady!"

Morten turned so quickly he grew dizzy, and his sword slipped from his hand when he saw that Antimony had opened her eyes. Her gaze wandered, but it always seemed to return to him, and when he dropped to one knee and pressed her hand between his, her fingers shifted slightly. "Morten?" she murmured.

"Yes," he said softly. "It's me. Antimony…" He wasn't sure what to say, and he pressed his forehead to her hand. She was alive. She was alive, and she might even recover.

Robertsen set a hand on Morten's shoulder. "She's fading quickly, Sire," he said. "If there's anything you have to say, I'd suggest you say it now, while she's still conscious. There's no telling when she'll wake again."

Morten wanted to protest that she would wake again, but he did lift his head and set a hand on Antimony's cheek. "Who did this to you?"

"Hans."

Morten had been angry before, but he had never felt rage quite like this. It was like being dropped into the sea in the middle of winter, and cold flowed through his body like blood. Releasing Antimony's hand, he got to his feet and picked up his sword. "Robertsen, I'd like you to send a message to Queen Elsa. Tell her that I would like as much aid as she is willing to give in the hunt for my uncle, and that, if possible, he is to be taken alive. I'd like the pleasure of executing him myself."

"I'll do it at once, Sire," Robertsen said. "There's another thing I'd like to speak with you about, regarding Queen Elsa –"

"Tell me on the way," Morten said, striding to the door. "I'm going to meet with the captain of the guard." As they left the room, he spared a glance back. Antimony's eyes had closed, and she looked as still and as pale as ever.

* * *

Antimony opened her eyes. Her chest and finger felt as though they were on fire, but she was alive. Hanna's ring had saved her.

She turned her head slowly to the door and saw that it was closed. A nurse and a guard sat by it, playing some game that involved cards and dice, but otherwise there was nothing at all special about it. She had thought it might be open, and that there would be two other men in the room. One would be dark-skinned and unfamiliar, but the other would be Morten. He would be kneeling beside her, and gaunter than normal, but he would be there.

Perhaps it had only been a dream. She'd been having lots of those, but most of them involved Hans. In some he killed her, and in some she killed him, and she knew she would have to track him down eventually. The only thing she didn't know was when she would be strong enough to find him.

She shifted her legs under the blanket. She would make it happen soon.


	14. Coronation

Morten hadn't seen his father's coronation, but he had heard tales about it. There had been tables heaped full of food so rich that even the man considered to be the court glutton couldn't eat more than three helpings. There had been musicians and pyrotechnics that everyone was sure had to be magic, though Hjalmar had told him they were caused by a special powder mixed with different sorts of materials. It sounded a great deal like the various coronations he had been able to attend, and he had been sure his own would be almost exactly the same. He would be surrounded by his family, with a wife by his side, and perhaps a child or two, and there would be a full week of festivities.

This day was, however, one of the most somber the Southern Isles had ever seen. It was only two days after the funeral for the dead Westerguards, and though a few people tried to be cheerful, their happiness was feigned, and Morten had assured them that he wouldn't be able to keep a smile on his face either. That, of all things, seemed to relieve them, and he had already heard people whispering about how he would be remembered. King Morten the Solemn seemed the most common, but King Morten the Understanding was a very close second. When he was a boy, he had wanted to be King Morten the Bold or King Morten the Peacemaker, but solemn seemed to fit him far better. After all, no king before had ever looked so pale and wan at his own coronation, and he had lost enough weight over the past few weeks that his robes needed to be refitted so they wouldn't look like they were falling off his body. Even with that, he knew he looked ill, and people looked at him cautiously, as though afraid he might faint before the ceremony was complete.

He was determined to stand strong, though. Until he could find a wife and father a son, he would be the last king of the Southern Isles, and he wouldn't have it said that he was King Morten the Weak.

At least there was some family at his coronation. Nearly everyone had died, and Antimony was still too weak to rise, much less attend a formal ceremony, but with Queen Elsa's help, Hans had been captured and brought back to the castle. Morten had thrown him in the darkest cell he could find, but now he had asked for his uncle to be brought out. People whispered about his presence, but Morten ignored them. They would understand soon enough, and they would see that he was not a man to be trifled with.

Perhaps he would be called King Morten the Just.

Hans looked young and faint, especially weighed down by his heavy chains and surrounded by tall, burly guards. He couldn't be twenty-five yet, but something seemed to have aged him. He was deathly pale, and his red hair was knotted and matted. Morten had considered allowing the man to clean up before the coronation, but then he had decided against it. After all, he had left Antimony to die in his own prison cell. He didn't deserve any mercy. Even being allowed out for the day wasn't a mercy, as he would find out soon. Morten hadn't thought he could feel happy after seeing Antimony dying, but now he felt a savage joy light up inside his heart. Perhaps it was for the best that his sister wouldn't be able to see the coronation. He didn't want to distress her.

The crowds in the hall parted as Morten walked toward his throne. Everyone bowed, and even Hans was forced to bend his head by one of the guards pressing his hand on his shoulder. The man stumbled, and Morten swept past him quickly. He wouldn't be as cruel to his uncle as Hans had been to everyone around him, but he certainly wouldn't be kind. The time for that was long ago.

The coronation itself was almost anticlimactic. Morten had built it up to be a grand moment, one that would be the turning point of his life, but it wasn't much more than kneeling before a priest and holding a sword in his hands as he swore to lead his people wisely and well. Once the crown was placed on his brow, he rose, holding the sword aloft as the people cheered. It was heavy, but he kept his arm steady. The sword was to be the center of the day. It looked exactly like the ceremonial sword used by his father and grandfather in their coronations, but he had asked for it to be sharpened. It was unconventional, but everyone had acquiesced, and now, even though it had opened up little cuts on his hands, he felt good. It wasn't a happy sort of feeling, but simply one that settled inside his body like a comfortable weight.

"It is traditional for a king to make some sort of first act on the day of his coronation," he said once the cheers had died down. "My father opened trade negotiations with Weselton. My grandfather pardoned five prisoners. Though it took me some time to decide, I now know what I would like my first act to be." He lowered the sword and walked down the stairs from his throne. The people gathered there stepped away, leaving a half-circle of open floor in which he stood. "Guards, bring forward Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles."

A murmur ran through the crowd, and though it didn't look possible, Hans grew even paler. The guards dragged him forward and forced him to his knees, but he looked up and met Morten's gaze, green eyes alight with fever or madness. "So you're going to kill me?" he asked, sounding breathless, though Morten couldn't tell whether it was from terror or some strange exhilaration. "You'd be the first kinslayer king of the Southern Isles."

"But not the first kinslayer in our family," Hans said. "That would be you, if only indirectly."

"Indirectly?" Hans struggled to rise, but the guards held him down firmly. "What do you mean? I shot Antimony through the heart!"

"She's still alive, but only just." Morten started to lift his sword. "Since you've admitted to your crime, I –"

"She's alive?" Hans laughed, but it could just as easily have been a strangled scream. "But that's impossible. I saw her fall and was sure she had died."

"I don't know how she lived," Morten said. "It's enough for me to know that she will survive." She was still weak, but the doctor assured him that there would be no serious damage, not even to her heart or spine. Everything was healing as though a miracle had occurred, but Morten didn't believe in miracles. He hadn't since he was a little boy. The world was a cold place, and he would do his best to hold onto anything that made him happy and get rid of whatever tried to threaten that happiness.

Hans slumped, and some of his hair fell forward, partially covering his face. "It seems I can't kill anyone right. I thought I'd done it correctly this time. I made sure that there were no mistakes. We were alone – but we were alone that first time, and she still lived – and I didn't leave until I was sure she was dead. What could be more sure than a crossbow bolt through the heart?" His voice was trembling and rose until it sounded almost like a shriek. "I should have smothered her. There were pillows there; she would have died more quickly, and there wouldn't have been a chance that she could live and give me up. How did she live?" Hans tried to rise again, and again the guards pushed him down. "Tell me!"

"I don't know," Morten said. "It doesn't matter."

"No," Hans gasped. "No, of course not." This time the sound he made really was a laugh, but it was the most self-loathing laugh Morten had ever heard. "What would it ever matter? Just kill me and be done with it."

His uncle was mad. It was so obvious that Morten wasn't sure how anyone could have missed it. For a moment, he pitied the young man and wondered what could have led to such insanity. _He's a murderer_, he reminded himself. _He nearly killed Antimony. He deserves to die_.

But there must have been some reason for Antimony to go to the cell. Perhaps she had been fond of him in some way, or perhaps the seeds of that same madness had been planted in her. They were both the youngest siblings of large families, and they both were, apparently, rather neglected. Morten almost lowered his sword and allowed Hans to go, simply out of pity for his sister, but then his grip tightened on the hilt. He couldn't be weak in front of his people, not after he had vowed to himself that this would be his first act. He would be known as a king who meted out justice with his own hand, and he couldn't let Hans live just because he was family or because he reminded him too much of Antimony.

He had just raised the sword again when he heard Hans speak. It was low and faint, but Morten clearly made out the words, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, pausing. "What do you mean?"

Hans looked up, and Morten thought he saw tears in his uncle's eyes. "Thank you for doing this yourself. At least my family cares enough to kill me personally."

Then Morten brought the sword down, and all was silent.

Dark red blood poured over the floor, and Morten stepped away to avoid getting his boots in it. "Someone clean this up," he said, "and see to it that his body is given a halfway decent burial."

"Your Grace?" One of the guards, who had just lifted the head, paused, frowning. "He was a traitor and a murderer. Why would you want to give him any burial at all? Your father would have tossed him into the sea or left him for wild dogs in the wood."

"I'm not my father!" The words came out more strongly than Morten had intended, and he sighed as he handed the sword off to a servant, who carried it away at a run. "He was all you said and more, but he was also a Westerguard. He was my family, and he deserves at least to have a burial. There will be no funeral, no day of mourning, but he will have a grave in hallowed ground, a bit away from the family mausoleum. You will treat his body with respect, and if I learn that anyone has done otherwise, there will be severe punishments. Is that clear?" He glared around the room, and no one dared to deny him. "Good. You are all dismissed."

Normally, there would have been a grand feast in the garden. Children would have run about, laughing and plucking what fruit they could from the trees, and the adults would dance and be merry. Today, all the nobles and peasants alike went to their homes, and Morten went to his chambers. They had been his father's, but in the days approaching the coronation, they had been cleaned out and refurbished. Now, they felt like his old rooms, only much larger.

He would have to find a wife, and sire an heir, but for now he was so weary that all he could do was set the crown on a table and drop onto the bed, not even bothering to take his boots off. After he slept, he would visit Antimony, if there was time, and tell her what had happened. If she did care for Hans, it would be better she heard the news from him.


	15. Searching for Meaning

Antimony grew used to being alone in her room. She wasn't actually alone, since there was a guard and a nurse constantly there with her, but she always felt alone. Her brother had only been there in her dream, and she'd had to hear about his coronation from the guard. He only mentioned it in passing to the nurse before the two of them crept out of the room as they so often did. Since Antimony was healing well and there was no more chance of assassins, she supposed she didn't need either of them, but the room always felt so quiet when they were gone. Once, she had tried to ease the silence by singing, but her voice was weak and toneless, and she'd had to give that up quickly.

Most of the time, she amused herself by getting out of bed. Hanna's ring was working wonderfully, and even though her chest still hurt, she could walk about the room and only be a little tired. She wasn't even bleeding anymore, but there was still a bandage on her chest, as though the doctor who came by every few days was afraid her skin would split open. Lately she had taken to pulling off the bandage, but she always replaced it before someone could enter the room.

The room couldn't keep her entertained for long, and though she was sure the nurse and guard would be just outside, she wanted to slip out, even if only for a few minutes. She was getting stronger by the day and was sure she could walk about the palace without wearing herself out. Once she had resolved that, it didn't take long for her to grow impatient with waiting and to pull open the door a few inches, just enough for her to peer outside and see whether the nurse and the guard were watching the door closely.

They weren't. In fact, they sat several feet down the hall, whispering to each other and giggling. Before one of them could look, Antimony ducked outside and raced off, not stopping until she had turned the corner. By then her breath was tight in her throat and her head spun, but after a few minutes, she felt nearly recovered. She hadn't been as prepared to go out as she had thought, but she wouldn't go back now. There was something she had to do.

She needed to find Hans and get an answer.

The walk to his cell felt longer than usual, but she couldn't tell whether that was because of her weakness or because she had to constantly duck to the side and find little half-hidden passages to avoid any prying eyes. By the time she reached the hall, she was out of breath again and slipped behind a column to keep out of sight. When she was ready to look down the hall, she saw that no one was there. Someone ought to be there; Hans was a traitor and a murderer. It wouldn't make any sense to leave him unguarded.

She hurried down the hall, but his cell was empty. All the cells were empty, and there was no sign of life anywhere. The only thing she found anywhere was a stain of blood from where her body had fallen. Perhaps Hans was in one of the lower cells, and though she was sure there was no way she would be able to reach him, she had to try.

She didn't take as much care to hide on her way to the lower cells, but it still shocked her when someone set a hand on her shoulder. "Forgive my temerity, my lady," a man said from behind her, "but from what I've heard, you're meant to be bedridden. To what do we owe this miraculous recovery?"

She turned and saw a graceful, green-eyed man standing behind her. His yellow hair was streaked with silver, and he had a gentle smile. "Matthias Hansen?"

"The very same. I suppose you didn't want me to see you." His smile grew more mischievous, and he offered her his hand. "If you'd like to be out of your room for a while, you could sit with me. My work isn't very interesting, but I'm sure it's more diverting than lying alone."

"Thank you, Master Hansen," she said, and his smile only grew as he led her through the halls to a little room tucked away. For chambers that were meant to belong to their head ambassador, it was a disappointment. The room was barely large enough to fit the two of them comfortably, and Master Hansen had to shift a pile of papers off a chair so Antimony would have a place to sit. She sank onto the cushion gratefully, and he settled on a smaller chair and pulled a letter across his desk but made no attempt to read it.

"May I ask you a question, my lady?"

"Of course," she said, sitting up straight. So far, the room wasn't proving to be terribly diverting, but perhaps some conversation would take her mind off Hans's disappearance.

"What were you doing out of your room? I may not know you as well as others do, but I'm sure it wasn't just because you were bored."

She wasn't sure how he could tell, but from the look in his eyes, she knew she would get nowhere by trying to pretend he wasn't right. "I was looking for Hans," she said. "I want to find out why he shot me."

Master Hansen had lifted a pen and begun to toy with it, but now he set it down and looked her over very carefully. "My lady, Prince Hans is dead. Your brother executed him at the coronation. You weren't told?"

"No." She was very glad of the chair, for if she had been standing, her legs would have given way. "No one told me anything."

"I see." Master Hansen reached across the desk again and produced a tea set, from which he poured two cups and offered one to her. "Is that the only reason you wanted to find him? To get an answer?"

Antimony shook her head. "I wanted to tell him something. I wanted to say that it doesn't matter whether my family cares about me, and that even if he doesn't care, it won't matter. I don't need a bunch of brothers and sisters to know who I am. I can discover that for myself."

Master Hansen took a sip from his cup. "And who are you?"

"I'm Antimony Westerguard of the Southern Isles, and I'm a fire elemental." It was the first time she had said it aloud, and it felt good to feel the words. The tea was already pleasantly warm, but now it grew hot, and a tendril of sweet steam rose up.

Master Hansen lifted an eyebrow but didn't seem shocked. "Is that how you'll prove your strength? By burning? With all due respect, my lady, I think most people would prefer you chose a less destructive way to explore your powers – and I don't mean simply your power over fire – especially considering your connection to the late prince."

Antimony looked down, her cheeks growing warm. She wouldn't be like Hans; there wasn't a chance of that. She wanted to build things up rather than destroying them, and there was only one way she could think to do that. Meeting Master Hansen's gaze, she said, "Do you still need an ambassador to Arendelle?"

"I do," Master Hansen said cautiously. He was smiling again, but only a little. "After all, Mr. Robertsen has decided he would better serve both our kingdom and theirs by assisting the king in coming to trust their queen. There is an open spot, but only for someone who wouldn't be afraid of dealing with Queen Elsa. I've heard she can be quite frightening."

"I'll do it." Antimony hadn't taken a sip of her tea, but she set the cup and saucer down on the table.

"Are you sure?" Master Hansen seemed sure that she would say yes, as he had already taken out a fresh piece of paper and a pen, but Antimony still felt the need to confirm it.

"I'm sure," she said. "I'm not afraid of the queen, and I'm not afraid to die. I don't think I'm afraid of much of anything anymore."

"Excellent." Within minutes, Master Hansen had drafted an arrangement between the two of them, which Antimony signed. "Once you're fully healed, I'll see to it that you're set on the first ship to Arendelle. In the meantime, you'll have a great deal of reading to do. You'll need to know their history and customs, along with their trade agreements with other nations and – my lady, is something wrong?"

Antimony had risen to sign the arrangement, but now she sank back into the chair. "It's nothing," she said, but her chest ached as it hadn't for days, and for the first time since she had gotten surreptitiously out of her bed, she wanted to lie down. "I'm tired, that's all."

"You ought to rest. I shouldn't have kept you here for so long." Taking her arm, he helped her to her feet and pressed a book into her hands. "Read this while you recover. I'll come to you in a week to collect it. But no." The mischievous twinkle was in his eyes again, and he smiled as he escorted her from the room. "I take it you want to keep this a secret. After all, if your brother knew you were going to be the ambassador to Arendelle, he would likely have me removed from my post for attempted to endanger your life. I'd be lucky if I wasn't thrown in a cell or executed."

"I'm not sure Morten will care about what I do," Antimony said, holding the book to her chest, "but if you could keep this a secret, I'd be very grateful. I don't think anyone would approve of my walking through the halls, much less becoming an ambassador."

"I'll carry the secret to my grave," Master Hansen said, and they shared a smile.

Just before turning the corner to Antimony's room, Master Hansen pulled her arm gently, and they stopped. "Is there something else?" Antimony whispered.

"I only thought I ought to let you know who will come to collect your reading and give you more," he said in a low voice. "He's one of my most trusted servants, and you'll know him by his gray hair and tanned skin. He's widely traveled and might even be able to further your education. Though I don't doubt your royal tutors were competent, I'm sure he'll have some knowledge you'll find useful. His name is Gregers Simonsen."

Antimony nodded. "I'll be sure to ask him any questions I have."

"He'll be glad to answer. Now, off with you, before someone gets suspicious." Master Hansen slipped off down the hall, and Antimony returned to her room. The nurse and guard were still whispering together, though now they exchanged kisses as well, and it was a simple matter for her to get inside, close the door, and curl up in bed. The book could be easily hidden under her covers, and there was a lamp on her bedside table that she was sure she could light. Master Hansen had said he would return for the book in a week, but it was thick, and when she opened it, she saw that the print was small and close together. It would take quite some time to finish it.

Smiling, she lay back on her pillows. She was no longer just a princess of the Southern Isles. She was an ambassador, someone who could command respect no matter their birth or origin. Her surname wouldn't matter anymore, and neither would the size of her family. All that mattered was that she be brave and intelligent, and she had no doubt she could be.


	16. Secrets Are Impossible

Anna was fairly certain that Elsa wasn't even trying to keep secrets any more. After all, it was very hard to keep everything from the eyes and ears of servants, and even ones who loved the family as theirs did tended to gossip, and it wouldn't be long before word got out that Anna and Kristoff had spent nearly an hour alone together, or that Anna had slipped down to the kitchens to get some cake while it was still warm, or that Anna had snuck out to one of the dances held by the townsfolk in the hopes of having some fun without being supervised by guards or her sister. Most of the secrets and gossip were about Anna, but there were moments when something of Elsa's slipped through.

Of course, her sister wasn't exactly the sort to sneak out of the castle or to spend time alone with one of her consorts. For that matter, she didn't have any consorts, and everyone was expecting the heir to come from Anna and Kristoff. Once they knew that, they didn't care all that much about his descent, or that he had been raised by trolls.

Still, there were moments when Anna would get her hands on something that her sister had been keeping from her, and she would hurry off to her room. Most of the time, it came from the mail, and more often than not it was communications meant for official eyes only. Anna had picked up a lot of information from reading those letters, and not least was how to heat a knife over a candle to slide the wax off so no one would be able to tell that it had ever been opened.

Today, the letter had come into her hands because she had bribed the mail carrier to give her something interesting now and then, and it was a letter from Matthias Hansen. It was likely about the new ambassador, and Anna was amazed that they had gotten one so soon. It wasn't all that long since Anders Robertsen had left – autumn was only just about to begin – and normally it would take months to convince someone to be the ambassador to Arendelle. They must have found someone truly brave or truly crazy, and Anna was determined to find out as much as she could. The letter would find its way to Elsa, of course, but not for a day or two.

As soon as Ina Christiansen, the messenger from the postal sloop, had handed Anna the letter, she had tucked it into her dress and raced up to her room. It was the same as it usually was, full of pink and light, and as she flung herself onto her bedspread, she found that she was glad that Elsa had been given her own room when they were younger. She sometimes missed her sister's company, but it would have been impossible to keep her own little secrets with the queen constantly there. Grinning, she lit a candle and began to heat the blade. The letter wouldn't keep its secrets for much longer.

It wasn't a very long message, and Anna read it quickly. Master Hansen's script wasn't the neatest, but after enough practice, Anna was able to understand it easily. The smile on her face soon turned into a frown of curiosity, but by the end of the letter, she was beaming.

_To Elsa, Queen of Arendelle,_

_I know it's unusual for me to write so soon after your sending back another of my ambassadors, but I believe I have found a worthy candidate. She is eager and intelligent, and even more importantly, she volunteered for the job. She claims to not be afraid of anything, not even you (she also mentioned death, but I'm sure I can convince her that her life won't be put in danger under your care), and I believe her. She is young, younger even than your sister, but I believe she will do well. Her tenacity will serve us both._

_Her name is Antimony, and I will send her to you as soon as I can. Currently she is recovering from a wound which nearly cost her life, but she has been healing remarkably, and I have no doubt that she will be on a ship to Arendelle before the start of winter. In the meantime, I have been ensuring that she knows everything she will need to about your kingdom. Her education has been good thus far, but it hasn't been the sort that would prepare a young woman to be an ambassador, and I must correct this unintentional oversight. I hope you will be patient with her. While she is learning nearly as quickly as she is healing, there may well be gaps in her education._

_As to Anders, I'm sure you'll be glad to hear that he has been doing well back in the Southern Isles. In fact, he has been working very closely with King Morten, and apparently he was under the impression that the reason we have been so cold – if you'll forgive the slight play on words – to you is that we didn't trust a woman in power. The king has assured Anders that this is not true, and from what I understand, Hjalmar's reluctance to deal with you was from embarrassment at what his brother had done. Morten should be more welcoming, though since most of his family was killed in Hans's attempted coup, it may be some time before he is of good cheer, though executing Hans has seemed to cheer him considerably. He has always been rather solemn and serious, so don't expect him to be cut of the same cloth as his father._

_I would like to close by saying that it has been an honor to serve you and your people, and I wish to remain_

_Cordially yours (with all possible respect),_

_Matthias Hansen, Chief Ambassador of the Southern Isles_

Antimony folded the letter and stuck it back in the envelope. It always made her feel a little strange to think of Hans being executed. He had, after all, tried to kill both her and her sister, and very recently he had orchestrated the murder of nearly his entire family, but she couldn't help remembering how people had looked at him with such esteem and how he had helped Arendelle when it was in danger of freezing to death. If it hadn't been for him, hundreds might have died.

And it had all been a trick. Though it was an uncharitable thought and unworthy of a princess, she was secretly glad he was dead. He had done too much to be forgiven.

The letter hadn't been entirely about Hans, though, and Anna's cheer returned when she thought about this new ambassador. She was a woman, and a young woman at that. That would be exciting, and she wondered how Elsa would receive her. She would likely be patient, or at least more patient than she had been with the others. After all, if Master Hansen had asked her to do something, she would at least try to do so, and perhaps this Antimony would inspire some kindness in the whole court to make her feel welcome.

Antimony's last name hadn't been given, and Anna rolled onto her back, wondering why that could be. She could be an orphan, a ward of the king who had been wounded in the assassins' attack. She would have wanted to get away from the Southern Isles for a while, and where better to go than a place where few people from the Southern Isles ever went? She would be perfectly safe in Arendelle, and if she was half as bold as some of Elsa's wards, then she would easily be a match for the queen. Anna decided she would have to keep an eye out for Antimony's arrival. Her first meeting with Elsa was something she would definitely want to see.

The girl might even last a full year, and it was said that if an ambassador lasted a year, they would be able to stay until they were too old to serve, or until they were killed.

A year might be too long, though, especially if the girl was younger than she was. Eleven months was a better estimate.

Tucking the letter back into her dress, she slipped out of her room and went in search of Ina. The postal sloop wouldn't have left yet, and Ina would have to be somewhere in the town. She could take the letter back and see to it that it found its way back to Elsa, along with an amusing tale of mistaken identities, or simply having dropped it on the way there. Ina still hadn't agreed to try the mistaken identities tale, but Anna was sure she would bend someday.

She found Ina standing by the docks, talking to a young woman. Both of them paused in their conversation as Anna approached, and the young woman scurried away as Ina turned to Anna and held out her hand to accept the letter.

"Was there anything interesting?" she asked, tucking it into her bag.

Anna glanced around. "Don't let this out before Elsa's had a chance to read it, but there's going to be a new ambassador."

Ina rolled her eyes. "I knew that. Why else would Master Hansen write? I'm surprised it's so soon, but the only other reason would be that there was never going to be another new one, and the Southern Isles wouldn't dare do that. What's he like?"

"She's a young woman," Anna said, and Ina's eyebrows shot up.

"Really?" She took Anna's arm and pulled her to a more secluded spot between two ships. "I never thought they would accept a woman as an ambassador, much less a young woman." Her eyebrows met in a frown that was so quick it surprised Anna. "How young?"

"Younger than I am," Anna said, and Ina's eyebrows shot up again. The woman was surprisingly expressive for someone with such a stoic voice. "Master Hansen asked Elsa to be patient with her."

"Do you think she will be?"

"I think she'll try. She's fond of Master Hansen."

"Hmm." Ina took out the envelope again and turned it between her fingers. "How long do you give her? Two months?"

"A year," Anna said, grinning. "She says she's not afraid of anything, not death or Elsa."

"Talk won't buy a songbird," Ina said.

"There's more." Anna told Ina her theory about Antimony being a ward of Morten's court, and Ina nodded throughout the explanation.

"It makes sense," she said once Anna paused to take a breath. "Wards can be fairly tough. I was King Agdar's ward, and I managed to become the chief mail carrier for the royal family. That job wasn't just handed to me, and even if it had been, I'd still have to deal with storms and pirates." Noticing Anna's excitement, she refrained from sharing her favorite storm and pirate stories, most of which involved fighting off pirates in the middle of a storm. "Is there any more news?"

"Nothing too exciting," Anna said. "Could you let me know if there's anything more from Master Hansen?"

"It'll reach your hands first," Ina said with a wink. Tucking the envelope away again, she headed back to the castle. Anna headed back as well, but on a different way. She didn't want anyone to suspect that she had been sharing Elsa's mail with Ina, and even if people had already found her out, she didn't want them to know for sure. It was much more exciting to think she was being careful and managing to sneak around everyone.

That night, Elsa gave no sign that there had been anything interesting in the mail, but she did retire to her study straight after dinner, and Anna paced her room, too excited to sleep.


	17. A Meeting of Dignitaries

Antimony had very nearly recovered when Master Hansen came to visit her himself. She hadn't expected him and was rather nervous when he came in, but his smile put her at ease almost at once, and she set aside her copy of a treatise on mediation. "It's good to see you're healing so quickly," he said. "I hope it's all right if I pay you a sort visit."

"Of course," she said. "Please, have a seat."

He sat down on the chair by her bed and glanced at the bundle of papers. "Nearly done with the reading too, I sea. This may be the fastest I've ever trained an ambassador."

"It isn't as though I have anything else to do," she said. "I'm glad for the chance to get out of the Southern Isles for a while."

"I'm sure no one would blame you for that," he replied. "In fact, that's why I'm here. You're not being sent out until the doctor gives you a clean bill of health and you feel capable of sneaking out to a ship in the middle of the night, but there is someone I'd like you to meet." He turned to the door and called, "Émeric, could you join us?"

A young man with brown skin and hair stepped in. He had a gentle smile, but his brown eyes went wide at the sight of Antimony. "My lady," he said, dropping to one knee. "I didn't realize that you were the latest ambassador to Arendelle."

Master Hansen's smile looked a bit tense as he said, "This is Émeric Noel, the Frankish ambassador to Arendelle. He's a good man, though he can be rather overzealous, especially when royalty is involved." Turning to Émeric, he said, "Now that she's an ambassador, she's your equal. You don't need to treat her like a princess."

"Right," Émeric said, getting to his feet. "Please forgive – I mean, I'm sorry… Antimony."

"It's all right," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Hoping he would take her hint, she held out her hand. After a moment, he shook it, tentatively at first but then firmly. "I suppose we'll be working together?"

"I certainly hope so," Émeric said. "I must admit, I've never been to the Southern Isles before. It's a beautiful kingdom. Nearly as lovely as my own home." His nervousness was fading, and as he sat down, Antimony saw a faint grin on his face.

"It's usually rather more festive," she said. "I'm afraid you didn't come at the best time."

The grin vanished at once, and Émeric's eyes grew wide. "Oh, my condolences for your family. I didn't mean any sort of disrespect, though it really is lovely. My predecessor told me about what Prince Hans did in Arendelle, and I assure you, if anyone had thought that he might attempt regicide again, they would have acted much more firmly." Even beneath the brown of his skin, Antimony could see a flush of red, and his voice trailed off.

She didn't want to brush aside his apology as though it was nothing, since it clearly meant a great deal to him, but she didn't want to always be seen as Princess Antimony who had nearly been killed by her own uncle. After taking a deep breath, she took Émeric's hand again and said, "If it's all right with you, I'd prefer to focus on my work. I've got a great deal to do, and I can't as long as people always see me as the little girl who was nearly killed. I'm not just another princess that Hans nearly killed. I'm Antimony, and I'm an ambassador."

Émeric nodded. "I understand. I've been through the same thing. Rather, I've been through something similar. I had a bit of a reputation in my town, and when I went to the Frankish Ambassadorial Academy, I wanted nothing more than to leave the Émeric Noel I had been behind."

"You have an academy for ambassadors?" Antimony asked. She knew each kingdom had its own system of teaching and preparing new ambassadors, but she had never heard of any that had a whole academy for that purpose. "We only have Master Hansen. He's a wonderful teacher, but there could be so much more than an academy could do."

"With all due respect, the Southern Isles is a relatively small kingdom, no matter how large your influence due to marriages and such." A blush was rising up his cheeks again, and he spoke quickly, as though to outpace the embarrassment with his words. "I come from a much larger kingdom, and we place a very high value on ambassadors and dignitaries. Hundreds of people want to become one, so we had to set up an academy, or the current ambassadors would have been overwhelmed."

"What made you want to be an ambassador?" Antimony asked. Sometime during their conversation, Master Hansen had slipped out unnoticed, and Antimony hadn't realized until Émeric took his vacated chair. She didn't mind all that much that he had left, and as the conversation went on, she decided that she didn't want to head out and find him again.

"Escape, mostly. I grew up in a small town, and everyone knew me, which meant they also knew that I was something of a troublemaker. I never did anything terrible, but I was so eager for excitement that I was willing to do things like unleashing a flock of chickens into a church or weaken the bridge just enough to make it a little unsteady." He laughed a little and rubbed his arm nervously. "No one ever fell in, but things tend to get exaggerated in tight communities, and before I knew what was happening, everyone thought I was the devil's nephew. In the end, I realized that I wouldn't have any sort of future there, so I ran away to join somewhere else. I'd always done well in school, so I decided I might as well join the academy. I changed my name and became the ambassador to Arendelle. The Frankish people are a bit nervous about Queen Elsa, so I figured I'd be able to keep away from everyone if I decided to serve her."

"Did it work?"

Émeric laughed again, stronger this time. "Not even close. As soon as everyone heard what I planned to do, I was surrounded by people who wanted to tell me how brave I was or how I would end up getting beheaded if I did anything wrong. The fact that the Southern Isles couldn't seem to keep a steady ambassador to Arendelle meant there were even more rumors, but there wasn't much competition. I was one of the best in my class, but even if I weren't, I still could have claimed the position to Arendelle."

"May I ask you another question?" Antimony asked.

"One more, and then it's my turn to interrogate you." Émeric was grinning more easily now, and Antimony decided he was an easy person to get along with. She had expected the other ambassadors to all be stiff old men who only cared about doing their duty, but even if Émeric was the only one who was friendly, she would have someone to talk to. "What do you want to know?"

"What's your real name?"

Émeric shook his head. "That's the one answer I won't give. I don't want anyone to find out where I've been hiding, and I certainly don't want to get a reputation. I've heard Princess Anna is pleasant enough, but Queen Elsa seems… well, rather cold, and I wouldn't want to get on her bad side by being known as a troublemaker."

She could hardly fault him for that, so she curled her ankles under her and said, "All right, I suppose you get to ask me questions now. Just remember that I get to keep my own secrets, just as you're keeping yours."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Secrets are the key to a healthy friendship." Émeric tapped his chin with his finger, considering, before he asked, "At the risk of sounding unoriginal, why did you want to go to Arendelle?"

"Escape," she said, and despite her decision to keep secrets, she began telling him her whole story, from being the youngest of ten to meeting Hans. She told him about how her uncle had talked to her as though she mattered and how she had found a kindred spirit in him, and even about how she had found herself falling a bit in love with him. She told him about her wish to find a way to break him free and run away, along with her distance from the rest of her family. She told him about finding her sister's body outside her door and walking in on her brother fighting off two men. She told him about Hans trapping her in the cell and shooting her, and about how Hanna's ring had saved her. Since the magic had already saved her, she supposed it was safe now, and when she didn't immediately die from the magic reversing itself, she decided she had been right. She told him about her recovery and about meeting Master Hansen, and how she had volunteered to be the ambassador to Arendelle because she wasn't afraid of death. The only thing she didn't share was that she was a fire elemental, as her mother had been. She wasn't sure how he would take the news or even if it was a safe thing for people to know.

Émeric didn't once laugh or say a word. By the end of her tale, he even looked a little pale, and one of his hands was twisted into her bedcover. After a moment of simply looking at each other and breathing quietly, he said, "I know this is rather off-topic, but I'll be staying here a while. My ship's being prepared to go to Arendelle, and if I can convince them to make up some repairs, would you consider traveling with me? I know I'm not exactly the best traveling companion, especially on a ship, since I'm rather nervous about the sea, but I think… I'd like to be your friend, Antimony."

"I could use a friend," she said, and his smile returned almost at once, though a bit more subdued.

"If you would rather find a seaworthy companion, I'd understand. I'm sure there are a good many people here who are better at traveling in ships."

"I have no doubt there are," Antimony said, "but I can't think of a more pleasant companion, no matter how well he handles the sea."

On an impulse, Émeric grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lips. Antimony was so surprised that she froze, and after a moment, Émeric lowered her hand, though there was a smile on his face that she was sure nothing could get rid of. "It was an honor to make your acquaintance, Antimony Westerguard, and I'm very much looking forward to working with you in Arendelle. You might well keep the kingdom of winter warm for me."

"And you'll be the first proper friend I've had," she said, smiling. Émeric beamed and turned to leave, stopping at the door to give her a little bow before slipping out and closing the door behind him.

Antimony wanted to lie back on her bed, but she was too excited and sprang to her feet to look out the window. The gardens were just starting to turn orange and red, like fire and autumn, and though she would miss the colors, she wanted to get to Arendelle. She hoped that Émeric would be easy to find, both there and in the castle at the Southern Isles. She didn't want to have to wait for their voyage to talk to him again.

She had a friend. A real friend, one who would smile just because she was her rather than for her blood.


	18. The Ageless Sea

Antimony hadn't quite finished healing by the time Émeric's ship was ready to leave, but the seamen couldn't come up with any more ways to postpone their voyage, and the doctor had already decided that Antimony would be just fine without his attention. She didn't resent him for leaving; he had others to look after, and the sooner he was gone, the sooner she could slip away to Arendelle. Émeric had been there as well – his visit home was just that, a visit for a holiday festival – and he told her everything he could about the culture and the people. Most of it she had already heard from the reports given by the previous ambassadors, but she liked the way Émeric's eyes lit up when he told her what he had seen.

The night they left, Antimony dressed in a set of borrowed clothes. Émeric had suggested she wear trousers on the ship so her skirts wouldn't be tangled in the wind or – should the worst happen – weigh her down in a storm. Master Hansen found a discreet tailor, and she was fitted for some dark blue trousers and a matching jacket. She already had a blouse to wear, and Émeric helped her pack winter clothes. Most of her things would be rather light, but he said she could always buy thicker dresses in Arendelle. As she slipped out of her room, she considered perhaps buying trousers instead. They were unfamiliar, but she liked how light they felt on her legs.

Émeric had promised to meet her by the docks, and Master Hansen had already said his good-byes to her, so she had to creep through the palace alone. It looked different at night, and she hadn't thought to bring a candle, but after a panicked moment she was able to light a little flame in her palm. It floated just above her skin, and the fire didn't hurt her, though she was afraid to touch it. Hoping no one would come upon her and see it, she set off. She wasn't sure whether she was more afraid of being found or of someone discovering that she was a fire elemental.

The halls were nearly empty, which felt even more eerie than if there had been people there. Antimony only had to take a few detours to avoid being seen, and in less than an hour she was headed for the docks. Émeric had brought a trunk of clothes down for her, so she was able to travel lightly, and it almost certainly helped her escape to not have a heavy trunk behind her. As soon as she was out under the moonlight, she snuffed the flame in her hand and broke into a faster walk.

Émeric was there when she arrived, waiting on the gangplank of the _Impulse_, and he greeted her with a smile as she stepped aboard. "I was starting to worry you wouldn't make it," he said in a low voice. "The crew's been ready to go since sunset, and I've had to beg them to wait."

"Are you sure it's all right for us to leave in the middle of the night?" Antimony asked, even as the crew drew up the gangplank and began casting off, calling out to each other in something that lay directly between a shout and whisper. "Won't people be suspicious that your ship is gone so suddenly?"

"Not at all. The crew said they wanted to catch one of the night tides, so no one will give it a second thought. Before you know it, you'll be well away from the Southern Isles and on your way to Arendelle." Émeric linked an arm through hers and led her along the deck, weaving around the sailors who raced about, dealing with the rigging and oars. "Shall I show you to your cabin?"

"Thank you, yes." Her excitement about leaving and fear of getting caught had kept her awake during her walk through the castle, but now that they were underway, her weariness was returning. She hadn't bothered to sleep, instead sitting up with some notes she had taken and looking over them until she thought it was safe to head through the halls. Just before heading out, she had burned the papers and dumped the ashes out her window. There wasn't a chance anyone would notice.

"Are you sure you want to leave so secretly?" Émeric asked. "Did you at least leave a note for your brother?"

They had skirted around this conversation several times, and Antimony had known it would come up sometime. "I'm not sure what he would say. For as long as I can remember, he's ignored me, and even now he hasn't come by to see me once." She was certain that one time she had seen him had been only a dream. After all, neither her nurse nor her guard had mentioned it afterward, and they would likely have been gossiping about him, or at least have said that he had been by to visit her before some sort of business drew him away.

"This would be the perfect time to find out. You can't avoid him forever."

"Don't give me a challenge I might try to take up," she said, but her smile was feigned. "He'll find out sometime, and when he does, I'll deal with it then. He can't exactly order me to stop being an ambassador."

"Actually, he might be able to," Émeric said. "He's your king."

"And I'm his connecting to Arendelle. I don't think he'll be willing to give that up just to bring me back home." Her smile was more genuine this time. "As long as I can prove myself as an ambassador before he realizes where I am, he'll have to let me stay."

"I hope you're right," Émeric said. "I've been looking forward to working with you." He pushed open the door to her cabin, wished her a good night, and left.

The cabin was small but cozy, with a bed just large enough to fit her and just enough floor for her to walk past her trunk and make it to the door. She yawned and slipped under the covers, letting the motion of the boat lull her to sleep.

* * *

Antimony woke early the next day, feeling better rested than she had expected. Walking proved a bit difficult, but she made it out of her cabin and to where the rest of the sailors were eating. They served her fish and hardtack, neither of which were particularly appetizing, but she devoured each bite before joining Émeric at the side.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, staring out at the ocean. It was blue and seemingly infinite, and she felt a strange draw to it, one she wouldn't have expected from being a fire elemental. But then, she was related to the sea as well, though Hanna. She had kept the ring, even though it couldn't save her any longer. It was her tie to the one family member she knew had cared about her, and she wanted to remember her cousin.

Émeric groaned, and when Antimony looked at him, she saw that his skin had turned a sickly shade of brown and he clutched the side of the boat as though he would collapse if he let go.

"Are you all right?" she asked, reaching out to set a hand on his arm.

He nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again. "I'm fine," he whispered. "Go enjoy yourself. I'll be along in a while."

She reached up and set a hand on his forehead. He didn't feel unnaturally warm, so at least she could rule out fever. "What's the matter, Émeric? Don't try to tell me it's nothing, because I can tell that you're ill."

"There's nothing you can do for me," he groaned. "I'll be all right once we reach Arendelle."

"Seasickness?"

He nodded, then leaned over the side, his shoulders heaving. After a moment, he managed to rise again. "I told you I wasn't a very seaworthy companion," he said, attempting a smile. "I only wish it would stop now that my stomach's empty." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "You must be pretty good at sailing if you can handle it this well."

"This is my first time on a boat," Antimony admitted, and Émeric groaned again.

"Do you know, I almost wish I could hate you for that. I won't, of course. You're too good for that." His smile became a grimace, and he doubled over again. "It's only a week," he said. "I'll be all right. Don't worry about me."

"There isn't much else I can do on the ship," she said. "I'd only get in the way of everyone else."

"You learned how to be an ambassador in the time it took you to convalesce. I'm sure you'll find some way to be helpful."

"I'll come to see you again," she said. Émeric only nodded and waved her off as she went in search of the captain. Her head was so full of information about Arendelle that she wasn't sure she would be able to handle any more studying, at least not for a full day, but she didn't want to be idle before she had a chance to work.

The captain was a white-haired woman with dark skin and sharp brown eyes. Something about her movements made Antimony think of a snake, but her voice was warm when she spoke to her crew, and they obviously cared about her. Her name was Bénédicte Albert, but most of her crew simply called her "Captain". When Antimony approached her, she turned to her at once and said, "You're the newest ambassador, then? The latest from the Southern Isles?"

"Yes, ma'am," Antimony said.

"No one calls me ma'am," the captain said. "I'm a captain, but I haven't earned that title through anything but pirating." She grinned, and Antimony could easily believe that this woman had been a scourge of the high seas. "Pirates aren't called ma'am, or sir, or anything but captain, is that clear?"

"Yes, Captain," she said, bowing her head, which made the captain laugh. "If you don't mind my asking, why is a former pirate escorting two ambassadors?"

"Because Frankishmen are kinder than they have any right to be. Ever since their revolution, they believe in second chances and mercy." She sighed wistfully and gazed off into the distance. "At the height of my power, I could have swept the country into my hand and crushed it with hardly a thought. But you didn't come to hear me talk about what I could have done. What do you want, my lady ambassador?"

"I was wondering if there was anything I could do on the ship."

"You're not going to sit on the deck with the other ambassador and chat about foreign policy?" The captain raised an eyebrow. "Last time I had more than one ambassador on a ship, that was all they did. Of course, I had them both tied to the mast, so there wasn't much else they could do."

"He's seasick."

The captain nodded in understanding. "I'd forgotten about that. I'll have one of the men set a bucket in his cabin and keep an eye on him. So, you want something to do?"

"If there's anything I can do. This is my first time on a ship."

"Then I'll make a sailor out of you." The captain looked her up and down. "At least you're dressed well. How can you handle heights?"

"Well enough," Antimony said, and at once a sunburnt girl sprang to her feet. Her hair was so short that just looking at her face would have made her seem a man, but she had wide enough hips to show her sex.

"I'll take you in the rigging, then," she said, and the captain nodded approval. "Follow me. You'll reach the crow's nest by tonight."


	19. Fjord Horses

Antimony wasn't made into a sailor by the time they reached Arendelle, but she was far more comfortable with ships and able to climb a rigging to reach a crow's nest, though she wasn't nearly as good at it as the proper sailors. She learned how to work the sails and how to man the helm, and even how to properly clean a deck. She learned how to cook fish so it could taste palatable even with hardtack, and she learned how to walk without stumbling every few steps. The captain offered to give her fencing lessons next time, and Antimony accepted, though she wasn't sure there would be a next time.

By the time they reached Arendelle, Émeric didn't want to leave his cabin, though two of the sailors helped carry him and Antimony coaxed him out onto the dock. Once he was ashore and had a bit of food in his stomach he recovered quickly, and by the time he was able to stand, a pair of horses had been sent to them from the palace with the queen's compliments. They were fine horses, and Émeric was himself enough to tell Antimony that they were fjord horses, which were remarkably strong for their size and very docile.

"You do know how to ride?" he asked as he swung up into his saddle.

"Of course I do," she said, mounting her own horse. "What sort of family did you think I had?"

Émeric bowed his head, but he was smiling. "I apologize. I only thought… well, you live by the sea but haven't been on a ship in your life. I didn't know what to expect."

"My family was a little preoccupied to teach me seamanship," she said. The first chance she had, she would thank him for being discreet about where exactly she lived. She had asked him several times on the voyage to not mention who she was to anyone, but she hadn't been sure he had heard her or even been listening.

They rode the horses through the royal city and up to the palace, parting crowds before them. There weren't any cheers, though everyone looked curious, even expectant. Antimony saw a few people whispering to themselves, and she was sure they were talking about her, though she couldn't tell from this far away. She kept her chin up and rode on, though she did lean close to Émeric when the crowds thinned.

"Have there been people talking about me?" she murmured.

Émeric nodded. "They're… to be honest, they're placing bets on how long you'll last."

"Bets?" Heat rose into Antimony's cheeks.

"It's a common practice for the ambassadors from the Southern Isles. I've heard even Queen Elsa gets in on it. Not that she bets," he added quickly, "just that she makes guesses. It's only a rumor, of course."

"Well, I'm going to outlast all their guesses."

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Once they reached the palace, they handed the horses off to two grooms who led them away to stables. Almost at once, a broad-shouldered man with dark gray hair in a queue stepped forward. "You are the Frankish and Southern ambassadors?" he asked. Antimony couldn't get even a hint of what he was thinking from his voice. He didn't sound scornful, but he didn't sound particularly reverent, either.

"We are," Émeric said. "I've been here often enough that I'd think you'd remember me."

"I have to ask everyone, just to be sure," the man said. "If my own mother came to visit – not that she would – I'd have to ask her." He bowed a little. "The queen expects you within."

Émeric leaned close to whisper to Antimony. "Don't worry. Queen Elsa doesn't rely a lot on procedure. It's only some of the people who work for her that do."

The audience hall was packed with guards, and at the far end, standing by the thrones, Antimony saw the queen and princess. Queen Elsa was pale and regal, though something about her coloring made her look slightly frostbitten. She gave Émeric a brief smile, but the expression was gone as soon as she turned her attention to Antimony. Master Hansen had assured her that in none of his letters had he given her lineage, but Antimony couldn't help fearing that the queen could somehow guess her family and hated her for it. Princess Anna, at least, seemed more cheerful. She gave Émeric a little wave and beamed when she saw Antimony, and Antimony gave her a little smile in return, though she was surprised by the gesture.

She and Émeric walked down the audience hall and both knelt. The movement was still unfamiliar, since she was used to giving slight curtsies, but she managed not to wobble. Émeric was the first to speak, and he said, "It's an honor to return to Arendelle, Your Grace, and I thank you for allowing me the chance to return home for a while."

"Thank you for returning," Queen Elsa said, "and thank you for accompanying the latest ambassador from the Southern Isles."

Antimony knew what to do. She would thank the queen for the chance to serve at her court, and then she would be shown to her rooms. After that, she would be the ambassador and do what she could to make sure everything worked out well between the two kingdoms. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that the queen deserved to know who she would be letting into her court. If the truth would come someday – for her brother would likely send word to Arendelle when he learned she was gone – then she would rather it came from her own mouth.

"Your Grace," she said, "my name is Antimony Westerguard, and –"

A collective gasp from around the room cut her off, and she dared to raise her head. Nearly half the guards had drawn their weapons, and Princess Anna had taken a step back. Ice had formed around Queen Elsa's feet, but she didn't so much as stumble when she took a step forward. "Westerguard?" she said.

This would be Antimony's last chance to save herself. She could easily say that she had misspoken, that her name was Westenguard or Westguard. A quick glance at Émeric told her that he thought she ought to save herself; he was nearly as pale as he had been on the ship, and only his hands on his knee kept him from waver enough to fall. Still, she turned her attention back to Queen Elsa and said, "Yes. I am a Westerguard, and I am the niece of the late Prince Hans."

The queen's eyes narrowed. "Why were you chosen to be the ambassador?"

"I wasn't," Antimony said. "I volunteered to go. No one but Master Hansen knows of my choice or that I'm here. I don't know what he told my brother to excuse there being a new ambassador, only that he didn't tell him I had gone."

The queen took another step forward. "And why did you volunteer?"

"Because I'm not afraid of dying." A murmur sounded around the hall, but Antimony kept speaking, raising her voice to be heard by everyone. "My uncle tried to kill me. He shot me through the heart with a crossbow bolt, and the only reason I'm still alive is because a cousin of mine gave me a magic ring. After my uncle betrayed me like that, I decided that I didn't need to rely on anyone but myself."

"Betrayed?" The queen lifted an eyebrow. "Were you close to him?"

If no one else heard the whole truth, at least the people of Arendelle would. "I loved him. I was the youngest in my family, and no one else cared enough to look at me, but when I talked to him, I felt like he understood. He shot me because I was trying to find out whether he was all right. I thought he was the only family I had."

Queen Elsa turned away and walked back to her throne. "I've heard enough. Hans told us the same story when he came here. I know your family isn't a collection of traitors, but I know enough about them to be more comfortably with all of you out of Arendelle. Guards, give her a comfortable room until she's on the first ship back to the Southern Isles. I'll write a letter for her brother."

A few of the guards left their ranks to approach Antimony, and Émeric gasped, looking as though he was nearly ready to spring to his feet and try to keep them from her with his bare hands. Instead, it was Princess Anna who stepped forward.

"Wait," she said, and everyone froze. Her voice was gentler and graver than Antimony had expected from seeing her grin, and even Queen Elsa turned to listen to her. "I believe her."

"Anna, you don't know what you're talking about," the queen began, but her sister shook her head.

"I know exactly what I'm talking about," she said. "I loved Hans too, or I thought I did. I felt just as betrayed when I found out the truth about him. Have you forgotten that he tried to kill me, too?"

"Anna, of course I haven't –"

"Let me finish," the princess said. "Antimony is telling the truth. I know how deceitful Hans can be, and I know how easy it is to believe him. Master Hansen said that Antimony was recovering from a nearly fatal wound, and what could be more nearly fatal than a crossbow bold through the heart? This is why he wouldn't give you her surname, and this is why he asked you to be kind to her. He knew how you would react to who she was."

Queen Elsa's reaction wasn't to soften, or to admit that she had been wrong. Instead, she turned on her sister and said, in a voice that made it very clear who held the power in the kingdom, "You read my mail?"

"Only sometimes," Princess Anna said.

"I could –" The queen paused and stepped away, holding up a hand. "We'll discuss this later. Guards, take Princess Antimony to her chambers. I'm finished here."

"Wait!" Émeric said, springing to his feet. "Please, Your Grace, may I say one thing that might change your mind?"

"One," Queen Elsa said. "Say it quickly, before I lose my patience."

Émeric dropped to one knee again and began speaking faster than Antimony had ever heard him. "Master Hansen trained Antimony personally in the Southern Isles. I've only ever heard you praise him. Please, Your Grace, why would he send Antimony to you unless he knew she was the best for the job? He wouldn't, especially given her family and what her uncle did to you and to your sister."

Nobody moved while the queen considered his words. After a while, she said, "Very well. Antimony Westerguard, I will give you a chance. If you do well, I will keep you on as the ambassador. If you disappoint me, I well send you back to the Southern Isles. Guards, if you would escort the ambassadors to their chambers? I have a letter to write."

"Your Grace?" Antimony called. "You're not going to write to Morten, are you?"

"No," Queen Elsa said. "I'm going to write to Master Hansen. I have a few words for him – and for him alone." Those last remarks were directed at the princess, who flinched and looked away.

As they left the audience hall, flanked by guards, Émeric said, "Isn't this wonderful? You're going to be an ambassador!"

"Thanks to you," Antimony said. "If you hadn't stood up for me back there, she would have sent me back to the Southern Isles."

"I'd do anything for a friend," Émeric said. "I doubt I'd go back to the Southern Isles for you, though." After a moment, he added, "Well, perhaps. I haven't made up my mind yet about you."


	20. Strenuous Negotiations

Antimony didn't have to wait long for her first chance to prove herself. She had been in Arendelle for only a day when a guard came to her door and told her the queen had summoned her.

"Did she say why I was needed?" she asked.

"Not outright, but there are enough rumors flying around that I think I know what's happening." He glanced around to make sure they were alone before saying, "You'll be officially told by the queen, but you ought to know what the rest of us know as well. Queen Elsa has lately been engaged in trade negotiations with a group of… well, to be perfectly frank, they're no better than pirates. I suppose she needs a mediator."

"Why would she choose me? I don't have any formal training."

"Again, this is only speculation, but the people believe she wants to test you. I don't know whether she hopes you'll fail or be able to prove yourself." He led her to a set of double doors and was about to knock when Antimony set a hand on his arm.

"I need you to help me." She had never pleaded with anyone, but right now, looking into the guard's eyes, she realized that was what she was doing. "Why are you telling me this? Why is anyone trying to help me now that you all know who I am?" From the little she had seen of them, she had seen that they were all fond of the princess, treating her like a little sister. Even though Princess Anna had helped her, she still didn't know why they would want to help the niece of the man who had nearly killed their beloved princess.

"Because you're young and earnest, just as she is," the guard said, and he didn't need to explain who _she _was. "We want you to be lucky, and if your best luck comes from here, then we wish you well."

"Thank you," she said, and the guard nodded. "So far, my greatest luck has come from being an ambassador, so I hope I can stay here."

The guard opened the door, and Antimony stepped into the little room.

It was richly furnished, with tapestries hanging from the walls and a window looking out on the bay. At the table sat Queen Elsa and a boyish-looking man with almost unnaturally pale skin in dark hair that hung about his shoulders. His large, dark blue eyes had laugh lines about them, and he smiled when Antimony entered and got to his feet, holding out his hand.

"You must be the mediator," he said, shaking her hand. His voice sounded almost like a laugh, and he chuckled as he sat down. "I didn't think you'd be so young. You look like you're half my age."

Queen Elsa didn't seem the least bit amused. "Thank you for answering my summons, Miss Westerguard," she said. "I believe you've heard of Salah-al-Din Holme, also called the Icicle of the Desert?"

Antimony had more than heard of him. Every trade season, talk in the Southern Isles consisted of almost nothing but the Icicle of the Desert. There must have been thousands of different tales told. Some said he really was from the deserts to the south but had been sent away because he was so pale. Some said he had left on his own. Some said the name was a lie, and he was actually from the far north but wanted to seem more exotic to terrify people. The only thing people knew for certain was that he changed his name almost constantly. Salah-al-Din Holme might well have been his real name, but it could just as easily have been a lie. "I've heard of him," Antimony said carefully, sitting down. "I don't see why you want to negotiate with him."

"It's simple," Queen Elsa said. "He has been harassing my ships. I don't have the manpower to stop him, and I daren't use my powers to. He is too quick, and I would cause more harm than I would good." When she saw Antimony's nervous glances toward her, she smiled and said, "He has already guessed these things. It does no harm to admit them."

"Very well," Antimony said. "You wish to keep him from attacking your ships. What are you willing to offer him in return?"

"Privateer status," the queen said. "In exchange for attacking the ships of my enemies, he will be pardoned all his crimes against Arendelle and I will speak in his defense should he be captured by another kingdom. However, if he attacks even one of my ships, I will do everything within my power to have him brought down and hung for piracy." She spoke as evenly as ever, with not a hint of malice. "Do those terms sound acceptable?"

Holme nodded, and Antimony glanced to the queen. "That sounds like a fair agreement, and it seems he agrees. Why did you need me here?"

"He wouldn't do anything without a mediator," Queen Elsa said. "To tell the truth, I'd rather have an outside interest here as well. Neither of us trust one another." She pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper. "I'll draw up the agreement now."

"You're right not to trust him," Antimony said. "I've heard a lot about him from my home. They say he comes up with a new name each year, maybe each month."

"I've heard that as well," the queen said, but she sounded a bit absent, as she was busy writing.

Antimony turned her attention to Holme. "Listen, I know I was just about useless here, but I still have something to say. Whatever name you sign, you will keep that agreement, no matter what your name changes to next week, or next month, or any time between now and your death. You don't get to back out just because you don't call yourself Salah-al-Din Holme anymore."

Holme grinned, looking as though all of this was terribly funny. "I suppose you'd know a great deal about names, wouldn't you, Antimony Westerguard? Tell me, are you a bastard daughter or a runaway child?"

Antimony knew better than to snap back or even to show her anger, but her cheeks grew hot. "You know very well who I am, Mr. Holme, to use my name. But then, I'm sure a man such as you would be sure to know everything he could about the people he was robbing."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "And what sort of man am I, little princess?"

"You're the worst pirate who ever lived. If I thought it would do any good, I would tell the queen to have her guards arrest you this instant." She was tempted to do so now, or even to go to the door and see if the guard was still there. Holme had almost certainly done enough to be locked away, if not to hang. "I'd like to know one good reason I shouldn't."

"Aside from that it won't do any good?" Holme laughed again. "Another would only rise up to take my place. It's the way the world works, my little princess. You wouldn't know a thing about it in your fine palace, with your plentiful food and guards to protect you from even breaking one of your pretty little ankles, but on the open sea, things are dangerous. It's a place where you have to kill or be killed, and the only reason I've done as well as I have is that I'm far better at the former than the latter." He chuckled a bit. "Once I'm gone, the chaos I've been keeping down will rise up until a man just as bad as me or worse takes charge."

Each diminutive was only get a rise out of her, and it was nearly working. Antimony could feel sparks racing through her veins, but she forced her breathing to remain steady. She wouldn't give in to him, not now or ever. This was her chance to show the queen that she could be an ambassador, and she wouldn't ruin it by shouting or making Holme burst into flame, however satisfying either of those might be. "This isn't the sort of battle you can win," she said. "The fact that you're here right now proves that. You're only here because you need the queen's protection."

"That's a lie," he snarled, his grin slipping off his face for the first time. Antimony didn't smile, but she did feel a surge of pleasure at having touched a nerve. "I don't need anyone's protection, especially not a queen's."

"Is that so? Then you likely wouldn't mind leaving now."

Holme twitched in his chair but then settled again. "She's giving me power. I can attack any of Arendelle's enemies and not be touched."

"But you can't attack Arendelle," Antimony said. "Your power's being cut." She was gambling now, especially with the queen sitting mere feet away, but she kept going. "Tell me, Mr. Holme, why are you really doing this? Did someone get too close to catching you? Did you realize your neck was very close to being circled by a noose?"

Holme was definitely uncomfortable now, shifting and glaring. All traces of humor were gone. "Royal brat," he muttered. "You haven't got a clue what you're talking about. You're not even old enough to birth a kid, are you? Shut up and let the proper adults talk."

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to sound contrite. "Have I made you uncomfortable? Did I get too close to the truth?"

Holme looked as though he wanted nothing more than to launch himself across the table and strangle her, but then he turned to Queen Elsa and snapped, "When are you going to have that paper written up? We weren't even talking for this long!"

"Oh, it's finished," the queen said, passing the paper to Holme. "I thought the two of you might want to finish your conversation." Antimony thought she saw a hint of a smile on the queen's face, but Holme had grabbed the paper and held it up before his face, muttering as he read. Less than half a minute later, he crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it.

"Lying bitch!" he roared, springing to his feet. "It was an arrest warrant!"

"And quite valid," the queen said, still with that hint of a smile. "The moment you set foot out of this room, my guards have orders to arrest you so you can have a trial. I'm a fair queen, but I'm sure you're guilty of every charge of piracy and murder that will be laid at your feet."

With a roar, Holme sprang to his feet, drawing a sword. Before Queen Elsa could make a move to freeze him, Antimony had leapt onto the table and grabbed Holme's hand, her own blazing. The pirate shrieked as he dropped his weapon, and only when the doors crashed open and a group of guards ran in did Antimony realize what she had done. Snuffing the flame, she stepped off the table and to the side of the room. The guards said nothing as they led a still-screaming Holme out of the room, and when they were alone, the queen turned to Antimony.

"You passed the test," she said, "but I must admit, the fire came as something of a surprise. I don't suppose you'd mind telling me how you did that?"

"I… that was a test?" Antimony was dumbfounded, and her wit of before was gone.

"Oh, yes. Did you honestly think I'd offer protection to a pirate?" Queen Elsa started out of the room, and Antimony followed. "I may be young, but I'm no fool. I staged that so I would see how you negotiate. Rather, how you deal with people."

"So I can stay?"

"Of course." The queen gave her a real smile now. "And I'll want you to join me for dinner."


	21. The Priest

There was something strange about Antimony Westerguard. It wasn't that she could control fire; since Elsa herself could control ice, she doubted she would have been surprised if Antimony could make fish sing just by walking past the harbor. It was something else, something she couldn't set her finger on, not even after the dinner they had shared.

It had been a pleasant meal. Anna had been there, and there had been a few guards stationed at the other end of the table, but that was mostly for a formality, and they spent their time eating and talking about how Elsa had managed to capture the Icicle of the Desert. Even she had to admit that it had been impressive, though she hadn't thought he would fall for her trap so easily. It hadn't even been a very well-laid trap, since it had mostly been a test for Antimony, which she had passed wonderfully. That she had proven her newest ambassador and captured one of the most notorious pirates in this part of the world only made the day better.

The dinner started out rather awkward and formal, but after Anna started talking, Antimony opened up a little, and the only forced moments came when everyone tried to skirt around the issue of Hans. Elsa would have been perfectly happy to talk about him, and she was sure that Anna wouldn't mind sharing her feelings – she rarely held back on anything else, which was how Elsa had known that she meant no harm by reading her mail – but Antimony seemed uncomfortable, and both of the sisters agreed that she ought to be treated well. Instead, they had discussed the weather, and trade agreements, and a little magic. Apparently Antimony's mother had been a fire elemental and passed her powers to her daughter.

"There's magic in my family, too," Elsa said, "though I'm sure you've heard that already."

"I've heard of it," Antimony said. "You can control winter, can't you? Could your parents do the same?"

Elsa shook her head. "The magic comes from further back. I think it's been five generations since there was anyone in my family with the same sort of power. Luckily, he kept detailed notes, and those helped my parents." The notes hadn't been as helpful as she might have hoped, since the only thing her father had remembered had been to go to the trolls for him. She supposed she couldn't blame her parents for panicking, but she had made Anna promise to pass on better information to her descendants.

"Did you manage to learn anything about your mother?" Anna asked.

Antimony shook her head. "There wasn't very much information in our library."

"How did you manage to control your powers so well, then?" Anna asked. Her dinner was half-eaten and now ignored, but Elsa couldn't really blame her. She wanted to know more about Antimony's abilities, but she wasn't sure of the best way to ask.

"I just can," Antimony said. "It's like they're a part of me, and I can control them as easily as I control my fingers."

"Are they tied to your emotions?" Anna asked. "Elsa's are, or kind of. We still haven't completely figured that part out yet."

"I'm not sure," Antimony said. "I haven't had them for very long."

Anna grinned. "You're welcome to use our library. There might be something in there. Right, Elsa?"

"Hmm?" Elsa had been thinking about the flames she had seen in Antimony's hand, and while she heard Anna's words, she hadn't entirely comprehended them. "Yes, of course. Feel free to use the library whenever you're not needed, and if there's anything else you require, you can let someone know. I'll tell the librarians and servants that they are to help you as much as they can."

"Thank you," Antimony said. "I didn't expect this much kindness when I came here."

"Well, Master Hansen did tell Elsa to be nice to you," Anna said. "She's just making up for nearly throwing you out of Arendelle."

"This isn't about Master Hansen," Elsa said, more strongly than she had intended. "I mean," she continued, trying to sound gentler, "that I am very sorry for overreacting when we met. The Southern Isles are clearly different than I had thought, and perhaps it's time I showed them I'm not who they think I am." Suspecting she would already know the answer, she turned to Antimony and asked, "What do they think of me, if you don't mind saying?"

Antimony glanced down at her plate, but when she spoke, she met Elsa's gaze. "They're afraid of you. My father taught my brother to step carefully when dealing with you diplomatically. I'm the only person to have volunteered to come here."

"I see." It would be so easy to relish this power, to use it to gain political clout, perhaps even to coerce the other kingdoms. She didn't want to rule by fear, though. She wanted to rule because she was the best woman for the job. She wanted to rule because it was her right and her duty. Her ancestors might have gained the throne of Arendelle by killing the competition, but that hadn't been her family's way for hundreds of years. She wasn't about to return to those times. "I hope the two of us can find some common ground."

"I'd like that," Antimony said.

The dinner was over soon after that, and Elsa went to her room to get some rest. It had been a trying day, even with her little victories, and she wanted nothing more than to change into something comfortable and fall asleep. Much as she liked feeling freer with her body and not having to hide herself behind gloves and thick layers of wool, there were times when she wanted nothing more than to curl up inside something soft and slightly too large. She had just lain down to sleep when a knock came at her door.

"Your Grace?" a guard called. "I'm sorry to bother you, but something's just come up that requires your attention."

With a sigh, she got out of bed and opened the door. "What is it, David?" she asked.

David Baardsson, a sandy-haired man who was often deep in thought, bowed when she appeared. "There is a man here to see you."

"What sort of man?" Elsa asked. If it were some kind of dignitary, she would see him at once, but otherwise she would send him away. It was too late and she was too tired to deal with anything less than a catastrophe. She rarely relied on her advisors, but they were very useful in situations like this.

"He's called Father Axel Årud."

A priest. She sighed, not caring how tired she looked. "Can it wait until tomorrow?"

"He insists on seeing you tonight," David said.

She sighed again. "Send him to Vidar. He should still be awake."

"Your Grace, Father Årud insists on speaking to you personally." David seemed a bit nervous but managed to keep his cool. He was remarkably level-headed, and there had been several times when she had considered giving him a promotion.

"Then he can wait for tomorrow," she said. "Give him a comfortable room and tell him I'll see him at my earliest convenience."

She had just started closing the door when David said, "He wants to talk to you about Miss Westerguard."

Elsa froze. "What about Miss Westerguard?"

"He wouldn't tell me exactly what he wanted to say," David said. "He only told me that he had something to say to you regarding her."

Elsa sighed once more and said, "I'll be with him as soon as I've dressed. Send him to one of the parlors, then come back for me."

She didn't take a great deal of time to dress. Whenever she felt like she needed time to prepare and had an adversary to face, she would wear her ice dress. It wasn't much good for combat, but then, she rarely needed that sort of power. More often than not, she needed to keep her opponent's thoughts distracted, and apparently bare shoulders did just that. In the time until David returned, she stood on her balcony and considered.

Antimony had only arrived a day ago. What could the priest want with her? There couldn't be much more than rumors in Arendelle, and she doubted even the girl's magic had gotten out past the castle. Her thoughts were still spinning when David returned and led her to the parlor.

Father Årud looked as though he was made entirely of angles, and his dark eyes made Elsa think of a prowling creature hungry for blood. He had been standing by the window, but when she entered, he took a few steps to the door and bowed. "I appreciate your coming at such a late hour, Your Grace," he said as he rose.

"I would appreciate it if you got to the point quickly," she said. "I was told you had something to say regarding my newest ambassador?"

"I do," he said. "Your Grace, with all due respect, I am afraid that Miss Westerguard is unsuited for the position."

"I think I am the one who would decide that," Elsa said.

"Your Grace, you may not be aware, but she is an abomination."

Abomination. Monster. They were the same words she had heard used against her, and they hurt no less against Antimony. The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. "How dare you," she whispered. "She has as much right to live as you or I. Would you say that I'm an abomination?"

Father Årud's eyes grew wide. "Your Grace, I… of course not! Who would ever think such a thing?"

"Miss Westerguard is no more an abomination than I am," she said. "I don't know where you got your information, but I expect you to go out tomorrow – no, tonight – and correct whoever told you that. She is a fire elemental, nothing more."

"A fire elemental?" Father Årud frowned. "I don't understand."

"I know that people may be afraid of what she can do, but they were just as afraid of me when I first used my powers openly. If anyone dares to speak against her again, they will have to deal with me."

Father Årud took a deep breath. "Perhaps you're the one who doesn't understand, Your Grace," he said. "I was referring to her relationship with her uncle."

"She already told me about that," Elsa said. "She also told me that he betrayed her. What more will you be able to tell me?"

"If she told you everything, then I don't understand why you would want to keep an ambassador who had an incestuous relationship with her uncle." The priest's smile was cold, colder than anything Elsa had ever done, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her shiver or quail.

"If I recall correctly," she said, "Antimony and Hans were not nearly as closely related as some of the older kings and queens were. Have you been teaching your congregation that those people were abominations as well?"

"They were chosen by divine right," Father Årud began, but Elsa spoke over him.

"Antimony is still of royal blood, and when she loved Hans, she was protected by divine right. Unless, of course, you think the Westerguard family no longer deserves that protection?"

Father Årud could only laugh, and Elsa turned to the door. "Wait," the priest said, but she didn't stop until she had opened the door and gestured for David.

"Could you please see Father Årud to his church, or school, or wherever it is he works? Our conversation is finished." The problem might not be, though. As she returned to her room, pulling her hair out of its braid as she went, she wondered whether she would have to deal with this again. It all depended on whether the priest would fall silent or speak again.


	22. The Troll Priest

Abomination.

Elsa couldn't shake the word from her head. It took her hours to fall asleep, and when she woke, she half-thought Father Årud would still be waiting for her to say that Antimony was an abomination, that she was some twisted thing that didn't belong at the court of Arendelle.

When had she started thinking of her as Antimony? When had the ambassador stopped being Miss Westerguard?

Elsa wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, but she had work to do, even if she couldn't remember exactly what was planned for that day. Even if there was nothing happening, someone would turn up with a problem, and she would have to deal with it, no matter how small it was. There had been times when she wanted to take a day for herself, to slip up north again and see whether her ice castle had withstood the summers. She had managed to resist the temptation, but today it was just too great. Her hands trembled as she dressed, and she nearly found herself reaching for the gloves she kept in a box below her bed.

"No," she whispered, pulling back and wringing her hands. "I'm stronger than that. I don't need those anymore."

Still, she couldn't shake the desire to hide herself. _Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal – no. I can do this. I'm not an abomination, and neither is she._

She ate breakfast alone but couldn't summon much of an appetite. When David approached her after the meal, he looked to be as ill-rested as she was, and she wondered if it would really be so bad to take a day simply to rest. She couldn't keep working him like this, but she knew he would ask to keep working as long as she did, and possibly even longer. There had to be a way to get the two of them some time to breathe.

"Good morning, Your Grace," he said, bowing. "I have some news for you."

"Already?" She had thought he would go right to bed after bringing Father Årud back to wherever it was that he was supposed to be, but perhaps the shadows under David's eyes came from staying up until midnight or even later.

He nodded. "It's about Father Årud. He, ah… well, Your Grace, he's been spreading word that the new ambassador, Antimony Westerguard, is an abomination. Apparently she goes against God by being a fire elemental. He also said something about her being a spawn of Satan, but when he saw the guards, he ran."

"As well he should have," she muttered. He wasn't saying a word about incest, apparently, but she shouldn't have mentioned Antimony's magic. She had only given him better ammunition. "Thank you, David. I'd like you to tell Ida about this and hand the situation over to her for today. You might advise her to remind the people that I was once called an abomination."

"Ida?" David gaped, and for several seconds he couldn't speak. "But, Your Grace, she's untried."

"Then this is the perfect time to try her. I'd like you to get some rest. I'll be out for today and won't return until late tonight, so there's no need for you to be by my side." The only thing she had to worry about now was whether he would try to follow her out, though perhaps the fresh air would do him good.

"But Your Grace, who will rule the kingdom?"

"I think the kingdom can do without me for a day," she said with a smile. "It will give Anna a chance to see what it's like to rule as well." She had grown responsible, if not any less enthusiastic, over the years, and Elsa thought she could handle a day overlooking the kingdom. If she ran into any problems, the advisors would be there to help her.

David didn't insist on going out with her, so Elsa rode out on the fastest horse she could find. One of the guards offered to accompany her, but it was a weak gesture; they all knew she could easily defend herself, and there was a quiet joke that if she was ever in danger, they would know because of the sudden winter. The joke made her feel nervous that she would cause another winter, but the guards smiled easily about it. If they were worried, they hid it well.

She rode out of the city and deep into the forest, following a trail she had traveled a few times before, once as a child and again as an adult to meet her soon-to-be brother-in-law's family. Despite the horse's speed, she had to slow now and then to get past fallen trees or rocks that appeared to have cropped up out of nowhere. She didn't know if they were trolls or simply boulders that had been moved there, but she did know that the path never looked the same way twice. If she hadn't been her father's daughter or Kristoff's friend, she doubted she would have been allowed to find it at all.

When she arrived at the trolls' hollow, all she saw was a collection of rocks lying on the ground. After tying her horse to a tree far enough back that the trolls wouldn't spook it, she walked cautiously among the rocks. "Hello?" she called. "Trolls? It's Elsa. I need to speak with you."

There was no answer, and for a moment, she wondered if she had come to the wrong place. Perhaps the trolls set up decoy hollows when they didn't want to be found and this day would be useless except for getting her out of the palace for a spell.

"Can anyone hear me?" she called. "Gothi? Bulda? Pabbie?"

Something bumped against her heel, and she jumped before realizing it was only one of the little trolls waking up. The child blinked up at her before calling out, "It's Elsa! She came to visit!" Before Elsa knew what was happening, the hollow was a flurry of life, with everyone shouting out how nice it was to see her again and asking when Kristoff and Anna were going to get married. Someone asked if she was in love, and she quickly denied it, though her cheeks grew warm and she wasn't sure why. It took several attempts for her to call out that she needed to reach Pabbie, and the trolls didn't fall silent until their king walked up to Elsa and she knelt to be closer to his level.

"It's been a long time since you last came to me for advice," he said in a low voice. "Of course, then it was your father asking on your behalf, since you were too young to deal with the problem yourself." He smiled, but Elsa couldn't bring herself to. She could never smile about the day her childhood had ended.

"My problem is very much the same as it was then," she said. "Am I an abomination?"

A chorus of shouts that she wasn't rose up from the trolls, but Pabbie raised his hand, and they fell silent. "You may have done things that many consider to be abominable, but you are as natural as we are."

"What about fire elementals?" she asked. "They're not abominations, are they?"

"Not at all," Pabbie said. "They were made by the same magic that gave you your powers, only theirs is more concentrated in them. You have some of the abilities of a water elemental, though they are diluted in you, because you are human."

"How can I convince people of that?"

Pabbie's smile was rueful, and he patted her hand gently. "You humans are so short-lived that you become rash and hasty, and yet the impressions formed on your mind can be long-lasting. You need only give people time and a reason to believe that you and the fire elemental are not abominations, any more than your subjects are, or the trees, or the sky."

Elsa got to her feet. She would have to tell Antimony about this. Even if the new ambassador already knew she wasn't any sort of abomination, she deserved to hear it still, especially if word would spread as quickly through Arendelle as she feared it would. "Thank you, Pabbie," she said.

"Any time, Your Grace," he said with a bow.

"Elsa?" one of the troll children called, tugging gently on her riding skirt. "Elsa, who are you in love with."

"We can tell, dearie," Bulda said with a smile. "We are love experts, after all."

Hoping she wasn't blushing too deeply, Elsa bade the trolls farewell and promised to visit them again someday, though she wasn't sure when that day would be. As quickly as she could, she hurried back to her horse and rode to the palace.

She wasn't in love, she told herself with each moment that passed. She didn't have time for love, not when she had a kingdom to run. She didn't even need love; Anna and Kristoff would be married soon, and she had already publicly announced that Anna's firstborn would be her heir and would be brought up to take the throne. Even if she did have the time to fall in love, who would be able to capture her heart?

Certainly not someone whose very being was made of fire. The flames would melt her away, and the water left would drown the fire. It was impossible.

David was waiting at the stables when she returned, and he looked just as calm as ever. When she caught sight of him, she had been afraid that he might be badly hiding his anxiety over her leaving without any warning, but as the groom led her horse back to the stable, he walked with her back to the palace and said, "I must say, Your Grace, you look very refreshed. Did your ride help you relax at all?" His voice was tight, and either something had gone terribly wrong in her absence or he was lying.

"It helped somewhat," Elsa said. She wasn't sure she could figure out how it had helped, but she knew it would come to her.

David sighed. "Your Grace, you still look tired and distracted. Is there anything at all I can do to help?"

"You can arrange a meeting between me and Miss Westerguard," Elsa said, pulling off her riding gloves. She didn't much like the feel of them on her hands, even though they were, oddly, a comfort. "I'll need to speak with her as soon as possible. And have someone tell me whether Father Årud is still talking about her."

"I'm afraid he is, Your Grace," David said. "I went into the city for a few hours and heard him preaching from a street corner. He says that Miss Westerguard is dangerous, and there are whispers that he thinks the same of you."

Well, she was dangerous. It wasn't a lie that she had nearly destroyed her own kingdom a few years ago. She tried to be understanding and forgiving toward people who were anxious around her, but now ice was forming around her fingertips. She clenched her fists, hoping David wouldn't see it. _Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. _That wasn't the way she wanted to do things anymore, but she could think of no other way.

"Your Grace?" David asked. "Is something wrong?"

She let out a slow breath and relaxed her hands. "I'm afraid my ride wasn't very relaxing."

"Perhaps another day –"

"No. I've been gone long enough, and it's time I got back on my throne." She strode to the audience hall, hoping to find Anna there. "How did my sister do?"

"Quite well," David said, cheering up with the new subject. "She's a bit more… vivacious than you are, but she proved an able queen. To tell the truth, Your Grace, I'm not sure I'd want her on the throne for a very long time, though."


	23. Horrors

Everything was falling apart, and Antimony didn't know what to do. She had become a diplomat to prove that she was strong, but now she couldn't stand to leave the castle, and lately she had taken to spending a great deal of time either in her room or in the library, reading. Sometimes she and Émeric would walk together and he would try to cheer her up, but it only worked temporarily. As soon as he was gone, everything went back to the way it had been.

It had started with people looking at her and whispering. That had been bad enough, and she had been tempted to hide somewhere, but she had forced herself to be strong and go about her business. After all, she was a new ambassador from the Southern Isles who was doing well, and if that weren't surprise enough, she was part of the royal family. The surprise would die down after a few days, or so she had thought until she had heard one of the whispers, and it had chilled her to the bone, something she had hardly thought possible with all the fire inside her.

Abomination.

After that, she had stayed inside the castle. She didn't know whether that would stop the whispers or only prolong them, but she didn't want to go outside to find out. Sometimes she dreamed that there were people standing just outside her window, whispering that she was an abomination, and on those mornings, she woke up ill and trembling. She wondered whether her mother had dealt with this or whether she had been accepted because she never tried to be anything other than royalty.

Perhaps there was a reason few people talked about Queen Surma.

Queen Elsa sent summons to her, but Antimony ignored them, telling the messenger that she was ill. Sometimes she considered returning home, but then she thought of how Émeric would try so hard to make her smile or how the guards and servants Queen Elsa sent to her would look at her with pity in their eyes when they saw how pale she had become and how dark the shadows under her eyes had grown. People here cared for her, but even more than that, they noticed her. Even if she never left the castle again, she wanted to stay in Arendelle.

These thoughts ran through her mind as she sat by her window, an abandoned book lying by her hand. It was a treatise on various kinds of elementals, but the prose was thick and stilted, and she wasn't able to concentrate on it. Her head pulsed in time with her heart, and she wanted to sleep, but she knew she would have the whispering dream again. A night didn't go by when she didn't have it, and more often than not she sat up with a candle and a book. Some nights she lit little fires in her hands, but those only reminded her of the whispers. She stared at the flames for as long as she could bear to, trying to remind herself of what she had told the queen. The fire was a part of her. She had used it to defeat a pirate, the Icicle of the Desert no less. She didn't need to be ashamed of it. She ought to be proud.

It was nearly impossible to be proud when a whole kingdom had turned against her.

Someone knocked on her door, and Antimony considered not answering it. Perhaps whoever was there would assume she was finally getting some sleep and go away, or perhaps they would slide a piece of paper under the door, letting her know that the queen wanted to see her for dinner. She knew she was endangering her position by ignoring the queen's summons for so long, but she didn't want to face Queen Elsa like this.

The knock repeated. It wasn't a knock that Antimony was familiar with. The guards all had sharp, military knocks, and the messengers' were only a bit lighter. Émeric's was uneven and had some strange rhythm that only he knew. This knock was soft, almost uncertain, as though whoever was on the other side of the door was hesitating before raising his hand. When the knock sounded for a third time, Antimony left her window and went to the door.

"I'm sorry for not answering sooner," she said, opening the door. "I've been rather – Your Grace!" Antimony knelt quickly, barely noticing how her head spun from the sudden movement. Her appetite hadn't been very strong of late, and she sent most of her food back to the kitchens with a request to send it out to someone who had a stomach to eat.

"It's all right, A – Miss Westerguard," Queen Elsa said. "You don't need to be so formal right now."

Antimony got to her feet. The queen looked tired as well, as though she too had been having trouble sleeping. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to answer your summons," Antimony said, gesturing for Queen Elsa to step inside. "I hope I haven't caused you any trouble."

"Not at all," the queen said as she entered. They walked to the window seat, and Antimony moved the book to her end table before sitting down. "I came because I heard that you'd been ill for some time and wanted to see whether there was anything I could do. If the doctors here can't help, I can send for others who can."

"Thank you for your concern," Antimony said. She wondered whether Morten would do the same for any of his ambassadors. "I don't think a doctor will be necessary."

Queen Elsa raised a single eyebrow. "You've been too ill to go out for days, and you turn away most of your food. You look as though you haven't been sleeping much, and you're nearly as pale as I am. It seems the only one who's able to help you is Mr. Noel. Does he have some magical cure the rest of us don't know about?" She smiled a little, but there was a hint of sadness in the smile.

"It isn't a physical illness," Antimony said. "I've only been rather anxious lately."

"I thought you might be," the queen said, and suddenly she didn't seem like a queen, even though there was still a crown on her head and her gown was just as fine. She seemed like a friend, and Antimony pressed her fingers tightly together to keep from having tears come into her eyes. "That's why I wanted to see you. I want you to know that you're not an abomination."

"How did you know?" Antimony whispered.

"People said the same about me," Elsa said. "They thought I was a monster when they first learned about my magic. I just want you to know that your fire is a part of you. It belongs to you, and no one should be able to tell you otherwise. You're strong, Antimony, and I want you to remember that."

"I will," Antimony said.

"Thank you. If there's anything else you need, please let someone know. I'll see to it that you're treated well." Elsa leaned forward and set a hand on Antimony's wrist.

Her skin was cold, so cold that even after she pulled back, eyes wide, there were goose bumps on Antimony's arm. Before Antimony could say anything, Elsa had turned and run, closing the door tightly behind her. Alone once more, Antimony pressed a hand over the spot Elsa had touched and closed her eyes.

* * *

Elsa pressed a hand over her fingers. They still had a hint of warmth from settling against Antimony's – against Miss Westerguard's – against Antimony's skin. It had felt like the right thing to do at the moment. After all, Antimony had been struggling, and since she was Elsa's ambassador, it was her duty to help. It had only been a slight touch, one that would comfort before fading away.

_And if she says no? And if she turns away from me because of this? What if she stops trusting me? What if she thinks I overstepped my bounds? What if…_

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the unwelcome thoughts. There was no reason for Antimony to distrust her, no reason for her to think she had overstepped anything. It had been a single touch, one that couldn't hurt and had been meant only to help. Perhaps, for that moment, they hadn't been queen and ambassador but friend and friend, but that was only because the two of them shared the same problem and it would be better to face it together.

"Conceal, don't feel," she whispered.

But she did want to feel. Antimony's skin had been warm, warmer than anyone else she had ever touched, and she couldn't help imagining that some of the heat had slipped into her own body. It wasn't enough to melt ice, but it was enough to quicken her breath and make her heart beat faster. It even felt as though her heart had risen into her throat, and as she passed a window, she caught a glimpse of her reflection and saw a hint of a blush on her cheeks. The frostbitten queen had some life in her after all.

She wanted to feel. She wanted to feel Antimony's skin, wanted to run her fingers through the ambassador's hair and press her lips against Antimony's to see if they, too, were warm, if they tasted like fire. She hadn't even imagined fire might have a taste until just now. Perhaps her own lips tasted like ice, sharp and cold and clean.

She wanted to see fire blossom at the ends of Antimony's fingers. She wanted to know whether that hint of warmth in her body could spread elsewhere, encouraged by the ambassador…

If she hadn't been before, Elsa was sure she was blushing now, and she hurried to her room. Perhaps the trolls had been right. Perhaps she really was in love, but she hadn't realized it until that one touch, that one moment where the two of them had been vulnerable enough to see each other not as their roles but as a pair of women.

She ought to ask Antimony to dinner. It would be just the two of them, perhaps with David waiting just outside for appearances. They could sit close together and talk, or perhaps they wouldn't need to talk. There were other things that lips could do.

But she didn't have any assurance that Antimony felt the same way she did. For all she knew, she was the only woman in the world who felt this way, and she would only make a fool of herself. It wouldn't be proper, and it would be far best to simply ignore it and act as she always had toward Antimony: friendly but distant. It wouldn't be the same thing that had happened with her magic, since this wasn't the sort of thing that would spring up all at once.

Elsa got to her feet and paced her room. She would act the way she always had toward Antimony, and they would have dinner together. There would be guards at the end of the table, and Anna would be there. She might even invite Kristoff to join them, if he wasn't out cutting and selling ice. Perhaps she even ought to invite Émeric Noel. He and Antimony seemed close, and perhaps if Elsa encouraged them, she wouldn't have to think about Antimony nearly as much as she was now.

All she could do was hope that it was just a temporary passion and would fade by the next day. Sending out a message to the kitchens that she wasn't feeling well and wouldn't require dinner that night, she changed into something comfortable and curled up on her bed. It was still light, and outside she could see the leaves, turning the colors of fire.


	24. Far and Away

The castle was filled with celebration by the time Antimony was ready to be among people other than Émeric. When she joined him for lunch, he told her that Anna and Kristoff had officially announced their engagement, although they had been unofficially engaged for months, if not a year.

"Unofficially engaged?" she asked after swallowing a bite of fish. "How is that possible?"

"Well, everyone knew they were going to be married," he said, gesturing with his spoon so wildly that Antimony was glad for his sake that he hadn't been born into a royal family. He was far too irrepressible to deal with all the manners and deportment he would be forced into. "It was only a matter of guessing when. Now that they've made it official, there'll be a wedding date, and likely a celebration sometime soon."

"Everyone looks like they're already celebrating," Antimony said. One of the guards had just danced a jig down the hall, and she had found two of the maids singing a counterpoint harmony while dusting a sitting room.

"Just wait until later this week," Émeric said. "The queen's invited all sorts of nobility and royalty to celebrate. It's going to be a new age in Arendelle's history. I've even heard that she means to invite –" He paused and lowered his spoon, his eyes wide as though he had only just realized what he was about to say. "She'll likely invite your brother," he said.

Antimony set down her fork and pressed her hands together in her lap to keep them from shaking. "It's possible he won't attend," she said, more from hope than certainty. "He may have too many things to keep him busy."

"The Southern Isles isn't very far from Arendelle," Émeric said. "I think he'll at least come for a brief visit, if only to show respect for the queen."

Antimony glanced to the south as though she could see her brother's ship already on the horizon. "He would have found out eventually," she said. "At least now I know when it will happen."

"You could hide," Émeric said. "I'll set up elaborate diversions so he never even guesses that you're here." His eyes were starting to light up with the plan, and Antimony could tell that if she let him he would try to get the whole castle to join him in keeping her hidden from her brother.

"No," she said, getting to her feet. "I have to face him sometime."

"But why?" Émeric asked. "I've never faced my past, and I'm doing wonderfully."

"Because not all of us have pasts that come to chase us." She smiled, but his eyes were still wide and pleading. Any other time, she would have let him convince her, but not now. "I've been hiding for too long, and I've only just come out. I'm not going to hide again, especially not from my own family."

"Good luck," Émeric said. "I wish you all the joys of a house, a tree, and a child." Assuming that was a Frankish blessing of some sort, Antimony headed off in search of the queen.

She found Elsa – when had she started thinking of her that way, and not as simply "the queen"? – standing on a balcony, looking out at a row of trees whose color had changed from dark green to bright orange. Antimony approached her nervously, and when Elsa made no sign of hearing her footsteps, she coughed slightly, as she had seen others do, and said, "Your Grace, may I speak with you?"

Elsa looked startled for a moment, but then she smiled and gestured for Antimony to join her. "You look better than when we last had a chance to speak privately," she said. "Is your mind easier than it was then?"

"It is," Antimony said. "I'm still a bit nervous about going out of the castle, but I'm not so worried about being around the people already here."

Elsa's smile became melancholy, and she leaned one hand against her cheek as she turned back to the trees. "Once you have that sort of fear, it's rather difficult to get rid of," she said. "But then, perhaps yours will fade more quickly than mine."

Antimony wanted to ask what she meant, but she was afraid that would be overstepping her bounds. She wasn't sure what she would do with whatever knowledge Elsa gave her, except to try to make her smile again. Her smile was something sharp and beautiful, like the first blast of winter air in late autumn, and it made Antimony shiver and crave more. "Is there anything I can do, Your Grace?"

She had been expecting Elsa to give her that queenly look and say that she was quite all right but the kindness was much appreciated, or for the subject to change. What she wasn't expecting was for Elsa to turn suddenly and look at her as though Antimony had appeared out of thin air. Elsa's eyes were wide, and Antimony hoped it was only from surprise. The expression was only there for a moment, but Elsa didn't return to her usual cool, distant affect. Instead, she took a small step closer to Antimony and asked, "Can I trust you?"

"Of course, Your –"

"Elsa," she said. "I'd rather not have things be so formal between us, if that's all right."

"Of course," Antimony said. "Elsa." The name was strange on her tongue, not preceded by Queen, and Antimony felt a thrill run down her back that had to come from the half-forbidden feeling of addressing royalty so familiarly.

"There is something I've never told anyone," Elsa said after a moment. "I didn't even realize it myself until recently, and I wasn't sure what I ought to do about it. I wasn't even sure I ought to do anything, but if I were to, then I think it would have to be with you."

"I'm not sure I understand," Antimony said, but she felt something moving inside her chest and badly wanted to know what Elsa was talking about.

"You intrigue me, Antimony Westerguard," Elsa said, and this time Antimony was the one to take a step forward. "I've never met anyone quite like you, who can call up fire so easily and yet not be sharp-tempered. You're like an ember, warm enough to be safe yet able to spark a conflagration at the slightest provocation. Fire and ice may not be the most intuitive match, but hearts don't always follow intuition."

"You intrigue me, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle," Antimony said, and suddenly the words were there, sparked by Elsa's pale blue eyes and something else inside of her that had been lying dormant, waiting. "You're like a cold wind off an icy sea, or the first snowflake that falls in winter. I can't decide whether I want to try to catch your or let you race past and simply watch, but I can't ignore you, not now that I've touched you." She had touched her; after that moment, Antimony had imagined she could still feel Elsa's fingers on her wrist, chilling her and yet comforting at the same time.

Antimony wasn't sure which of them had moved first, whether she had set a hand on Elsa's upper arm or Elsa had set her hand on the small of Antimony's back, but in less than a second they were together, ice pressed against fire. Elsa's lips weren't as cool as Antimony had imagined they might be, and they were warm and soft enough to be a reminder that she wasn't kissing a statue made of ice but a woman. She'd heard whispers about this sort of perversion, about women who did this and were considered abominations, but right now they felt far away and not at all important. What were words to this new feeling that made Antimony feel alight with the warmest flames she had ever felt?

A moment later, it was over, and Elsa stepped back. The faint smile on her lips quickly turned to shock, and she turned away, walking from the balcony. "I'm sorry, Miss Westerguard," she said, pressing one arm over her stomach and clutching her elbow. "I didn't mean to change our relationship."

"You didn't," Antimony said. "I may not have come here for a kiss, but I don't regret it."

Elsa stopped. "Then why did you come here?"

"There's something I need to tell you," Antimony said. When Elsa made no move to return to the balcony, Antimony walked to her side, and they stood in the empty hallway together. "It's about my brother. He'll likely come here to celebrate your sister's betrothal, at least for a day or two. So far as I can tell, he doesn't know that I'm here. Émeric offered to help me hide, but I don't want to hide anymore. I want my brother to know who I am. All about who I am."

"All?" Elsa asked, raising an eyebrow. "Does that include what happened here?"

Antimony's breath caught in her throat, and the whispers she had heard among the court came back to her. _Abomination. Perversion. Disgusting_. Trying to get them out of her mind, she shook her head and said, "I meant that I'm a fire elemental. I wouldn't tell him about this, not unless you were willing to have it known."

The look of relief on Elsa's face was almost palpable, and for a moment Antimony thought the queen might kiss her again. Instead, she only said, "Thank you. I'm not sure Arendelle is ready to have a queen to kisses her ambassadors on balconies."

If that was all that would be said on the matter, Antimony would have to be content. She and Elsa walked down the hall, wandering aimlessly, and though Antimony tried to act as she would around a queen, something had changed between the two of them. They were no longer simply queen and ambassador, perhaps no longer friend and friend. There were secrets between them now, and a stronger sort of trust than Antimony had ever felt for anyone.

"When Morten comes," Antimony said, "I'd like your permission to deal with him personally. Handling ambassadors between countries may be a task for royalty, but he's my brother, and there are difficulties between us that come simply from being family."

"I understand," Elsa said. "I may not have a brother, but I know what it's like to have secrets from a sibling. Would you like me to arrange a meeting between the two of you?"

"No, thank you," Antimony said. "It's possible I won't see him at all, and I'd rather not get too many other people involved. Not even you." A passing guard gave a nod to Antimony and bowed to Elsa. Both women nodded at him in return, and once he had rounded and corner, Antimony went on, "I don't mean any disrespect. I simply think he'll be able to handle it better if it's only me and him."

She didn't know what her brother would like better; she hardly knew her brother at all. Still, it was the only thing she could think to do. If the confrontation happened at the betrothal dinner, or at the ball afterward, then she would find a way to draw him into a more secluded place. He would probably agree to that, for decorum's sake if nothing else.

They reached the entrance hall, where Elsa had petitions to hear. On parting, they shook hands rather than curtsying and nodding depending on their station, and the handshake lasted a bit longer than was normal. Before Elsa could enter the hall, Antimony leaned close and whispered, "Remember: You're not an abomination."

Elsa gave her a sharp, wintry smile before stepping into the hall, and as Antimony walked away, she felt almost as though nothing existed below her knees and she was floating across the floor. Anyone who saw her would almost certainly know she was in love.


	25. Role Reversal

The castle of Arendelle had gas lamps in the halls, and Antimony liked slipping out of her room to make them grow brighter and dimmer. She only did it when no one was around to see her and be alarmed, although sometimes she did want someone to arrive, simply because she wanted to see how they would look at her. She wanted to meet their gaze and see whether they would be willing to accept her or whether they would turn and walk away.

She got her first chance when David appeared at the end of the hall. He met her gaze easily and only lifted one eyebrow at the sight of the gas lamp with its high flame before walking down the hall to meet her. "I'll need you to come with me, Miss Westerguard. There's a difficult situation."

Her first thought was that something had happened to Elsa or Émeric, and as David led her at a quick pace down the hall, she asked, "What's happened?"

"It will be easier if I show you," he said, "though I suppose you ought to have some explanation. A fleet of ships from the Southern Isles has arrived and formed a blockade in the harbor."

"I thought they weren't expected for another few days," she said, wondering both what could have brought her brother there so early and how he had managed to gather such a fast fleet of ships. Something in what he had said caught her attention, and she sped up, trying to reach the harbor as soon as she could. "Did you say something about a blockade?"

"Yes, Miss Westerguard," David said. He was normally unflappable, but now his voice shook, and she saw that he had his hands pressed tightly against his sides, perhaps to keep from wringing them. "Your brother has said that no ship will enter or leave Arendelle's harbor until he sees you."

He must have heard. There was no other explanation she could think of. "Has he said why he wants to see me?"

"He hasn't, though he sounded very angry."

"Where's the queen?"

"The last I saw, she was trying to negotiate with King Morten." David's voice trembled more. "With your permission, I would like to go with you, to ensure her safety."

"I don't mind at all," Antimony said. Morten wouldn't dare hurt Elsa; that would start a war more certainly than anything else.

The _Silver Hammer_, the flagship of the fleet of the Southern Isles, was in the harbor when Antimony reached it. She had seen it several times, but never before had she felt such dread at seeing its shining sails. The dread didn't stop her from weaving through the crowd to reach the docks, though the closer she got, the less she had to weave. The people parted for her, whispering, and she caught some of their words.

_Abomination_.

_Ambassador._

_Princess._

She reached the docks and saw Morten standing before her, glaring out at the crowd. He must have heard the whispers as well, and a shiver ran down her spine at the thought of what he might want to do to them for insulting her. He was dressed all in black, and his expression was grave as he took a few steps closer to her. "Antimony," he said. "Darling sister, what are you doing here?"

"I'm doing my job," she said. "I'm the ambassador to Arendelle. Master Hansen approved of me, and so does Queen Elsa."

"I heard that Master Hansen had agreed to send you here," he said. "I also heard that he tried to keep it a secret from me. However, I have ways of loosening tongues, and I soon learned all I had to."

Antimony considered letting the dock burn below her feet. It wouldn't hurt her, and it might not hurt Morten badly, but it would show her exactly what she thought of what he had done. "You tortured Master Hansen? How could you?"

"I'm only trying to keep you safe, Antimony," he said. "I nearly lost you once, and I won't do it again. I must insist that you return to the Southern Isles with me."

"I won't give up my place here," Antimony said. "I have a place here, and I'm happy. There are people willing to show that they care about me, and I have responsibilities. I'm not just the tenth-born. I'm an ambassador, and I'm not going to leave if going back will only bring me more of what I left behind."

"You have responsibilities at home," Morten said. "You're still tenth-born, but until I marry and sire an heir, you're the next in line for the throne. We're the only Westerguards left, and I want the throne to stay in our family."

It felt so strange to think of herself as the among the last of anything. She knew she was the last trace anyone had of her mother, but that felt so abstract that she had grown comfortable with it. If Morten died before fathering a child, she would be the last Westerguard, and that shook her world. Her family had always been large and spread out, but now that there were two of them, perhaps it was only right for them to be closer together. For a moment, she wanted to be with her brother again so they could be a proper family, and the yearning hung heavy in the air between them.

To the people of Arendelle, she was an abomination that needed to be sent away. She was the princess of another kingdom. She was also their ambassador, and the first ambassador from the Southern Isles to feel love for Elsa rather than fear. Perhaps it wasn't the sort of love they would have expected or even accepted, but it was love nevertheless, and she hadn't fled. This would be her place, and she lifted her chin. "I understand, Morten," she said, "and should the throne fall to me, I will return to the Southern Isles at once to take my place there. Until that day, I will be the ambassador to Arendelle. As far as I can tell, I've nearly set a record for staying here, and I don't intend to leave."

Morten glared and took another step forward. Antimony didn't so much as flinch. "If I can't ask you to come back, then I'll have to order you," he said. "I'm not only your brother but also your king. Antimony Westerguard, you will board this ship at once, and we will return to the Southern Isles."

"And if I don't?"

She heard a gasp from somewhere behind her, and it was only then that she realized the whispering had stopped. Whether they wished her well or ill, the people of Arendelle were listening to her, and they wanted to know whether she would stay with them or return to the Southern Isles. She hoped they would want her to stay, since the only other reason she would leave would be if they wished it.

"Then I will be forced to take action against Arendelle."

Antimony shook her head and reached behind her to undo her braid. As the plait came away, her hair lit up like a fire and rose behind her. More people gasped, and Morten took a step back, growing even paler than before. "You aren't the one in power here, dear brother," she said. "I can advise the queen as to what action to take the Southern Isles, and even though I've only been here a short while, I believe I have her trust."

"What are you?" Morten whispered.

"That depends on who you ask. Some people here think that I'm an abomination. My cousin told me that I'm a fire elemental, like my mother before me. If you were to ask me, I would tell you that I'm Antimony Westerguard, an ambassador." The fire of her hair cast strange shadows in the night, and she heard people murmuring behind her. They didn't sound terrified, though; they sounded intrigued, and those that were frightened or angry were quickly silenced. "I think the question is about what you think I am. Who am I to you, Morten?"

"You're my sister," he said. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I need to know. If I'm your sister, why would you ignore me for so long? Why did I never see you?"

"I was busy." Morten stepped forward, and for a moment Antimony thought he might reach forward and embrace her. "When we were younger, I was too busy learning how to be a king, and after our father died, I was too busy trying to run the kingdom. I did try to see you, though. After you were shot, I sat by your side for days. I didn't know whether you would live or die."

"I wasn't dreaming, then?" The memory had faded, but if she thought, she could still see her brother's face as it had been when she thought she had seen it. It had been gaunt and weary, and even now she could see traces of that. If this wasn't how he always looked, then being the king was taking a toll on him. His cheekbones were sharp, and there were shadows under his eyes. She supposed it could just as easily be his worry over her as being the king, for their father had been a large man, very different from how Morten was now.

"Is that what you thought it was? If I'd known that, I would have come back." He swallowed and glanced out at the crowd. "I don't suppose there's still a chance for us to be a family again?"

"Not every family has to be close together," she said. "Our uncles were scattered across the world, and they still were family. I'm only a few days of sailing away, across a strait." She wanted to smile, but she couldn't forget what he had done to Master Hansen. "Our letters should find each other easily."

"Only letters?"

"You have responsibilities, and so do I," she said. "We can't just walk away from those, no matter what you might want."

Morten looked at her for a long while, then he nodded once. "I understand. Will you forgive me?"

"For what? For torturing the man who gave me a new life? Never. For blockading Arendelle's harbor and threatening war? You'd have to ask the queen for that." To keep the despair from his face, she went on, "I can forgive you for what you have done to me – but only to me – in the past. Will that be enough?"

"It will have to be," he said. When he held out his arms, she stepped into them for a quick embrace, and when he tried to hold her longer than she had planned, she pulled back. "Thank you, Antimony. I'll write you when I can. Would you send my regards to Princess Anna and carry my apology to Queen Elsa? Things are still difficult back home, and I shouldn't be away too long."

"I'll carry your messages," she said, and after giving her a quick smile, Morten boarded his ship and the fleet moved out. Once all the ships were gone, Antimony let her hair fall back around her shoulders. For a long moment, the crowd behind her was silent, and then someone broke out into applause. A moment later, people were cheering, and they eagerly parted to let her walk back to the castle, where she found Elsa.

"I think they've found a new hero," Elsa said as they stepped inside.

"Only a little earlier they were calling me an abomination," Antimony said. "I don't understand them."

"They're fickle, but you've won their love," Elsa said with a smile. "I'm not sure why, but people standing up to foreign kings tends to enchant them, even if those people are foreign themselves. I don't think you'll have any problems with them."


	26. Trysts in the Garden

The royal gardens of Arendelle weren't nearly as extensive as those in the Southern Isles. For one thing, their northern climate meant there were a great many plants that couldn't grow except in greenhouses, so they weren't able to have as impressive a selection, although there were many varieties that Antimony had never seen before or even heard of. For another, autumn was well under way, and all but the hardiest of plants had withered and died. No one went into the garden during this cold weather; even the royal gardeners themselves had done all the work they were willing to do, and anything else could wait until spring, when it would be planting season. Perhaps the place was beautiful in summer, but now it was desolate and forlorn. There was something undeniably melancholy about it, and it made Antimony ache a little to see what it had become, even knowing that everything would bloom again in a matter of months.

However, since no one went out among the dead plants or even glanced at them through their windows, the garden was the perfect place to meet in secret.

It had started as an accident. Antimony hadn't felt much like going out into town, despite the people's newfound love for her, but she hadn't wanted to stay in the castle, even with Émeric there. As soon as she found a chance to get away from various papers she had to sign – Master Hansen hadn't said a word about signing papers or mediating between other ambassadors – she had put on a coat and scarf and gone out to the garden.

Though it was cold, the fire inside her was enough to keep her warm, or mostly so. Her fingers and the tip of her nose were only slightly cold, though without the coat, she might have been rather chilled. Her performance at the docks had been a fluke, a sudden moment of emotion and luck. She hadn't thought it would actually work, or even what would happen. For all she had known, she would light everything around her on fire and be seen as a terror to be drowned in the sea.

The thought made her shudder, so she turned her attention to a bush covered in brown leaves. It looked rather sad, and when she touched it, one of the leaves fell off, quivering as it landed on the snowy ground.

"You ought to see it in summer," Elsa said, and though Antimony hadn't been expecting her, she didn't jump in surprise. "It's the most beautiful shade of green you could image. Deep, but as though light could just bounce off of it and into your hand."

"What's it called?" Antimony asked.

"Queen's grace. At least, that's what peasants call it. There's a proper, scientific name, but I never could remember it." Elsa stepped closer to Antimony and set her fingers on a branch. "The gardeners planted a dozen of them after I took the throne. Well, after I got rid of the eternal winter." She smiled a little, and there wasn't any fear or anxiety in the expression.

"They love you a great deal," Antimony said.

"Sometimes I wonder if it really is love, or if they just fear me." A thin crust of ice appeared on the leaf, and when it fell, the ice shattered, leaving the leaf whole on the ground. "I would much rather it be the former."

"I don't fear you," Antimony said.

Elsa's head jerked up, and she stared at Antimony, speechless. When she was able to say something, she said, "Antimony, I don't mean this out of any disrespect. I care for you a great deal, and if we were in a different time or place, I could probably grow to love you. However, I am the queen of Arendelle, and you are my ambassador. It might seem as though we would be working too much for each other and disregarding the other kingdoms."

"I wouldn't be in any danger of a conflict of interest," Antimony said. "I can be as cool-headed and rational as anyone."

"As can I," Elsa said, "but the others might not see it that way. And there are… other things."

They were both women, she meant, or they both had dangerous magic. "I'm not afraid of that either," Antimony said, though she couldn't help feeling some trepidation at the thought of both of them being called abominations again.

"You ought to be," Elsa said. "Arendelle may not be as harsh as other countries I have heard of, but you would be stripped of your title and possibly exiled."

"What would happen to you?" Antimony asked.

"I don't know." Elsa turned away and began walking down a narrow path to an orchard. Antimony followed, and she saw that with each footprint, Elsa left a thin layer of ice behind her. "There have been rumors about other kings and queens who were… like this, but they were only ever rumors. There was never anything solid to prove what they were."

"And what happened to them?"

"Nothing," Elsa said. "They ruled the same as any other king or queen."

"Then make me a rumor," Antimony said. "Let them whisper about us in the streets so long as whispering is all they do. Let them guess and question, and they will never know about the truth."

Elsa stopped, and Antimony took her hand. It was cool, even against her fire-warmed skin, but she took the other as well. Elsa was dressed as she was normally, and the cold didn't seem to touch her, but then, why would it? She was a queen of ice, a woman who belonged to winter. It couldn't harm her. It might even feel nice.

"What if they strike close to the truth?" Elsa asked.

"Then have compassion for them," Antimony said. "After all, if they have nothing better to do than to speculate about who their queen is in love with, then they must have such sad, boring lives."

Elsa smiled and set a hand on Antimony's cheek. "And what sort of lives do we have?"

"Our lives are wonderful, because we're the ones in love."

They kissed then, soft and slow. The kiss was more certain than the first they'd shared, and Antimony found that she could think during the kiss rather than simply feeling as though she was vanishing into the unfamiliar joy. She noticed how smooth Elsa's lips were, and how she could feel the cold even through her layers as Elsa wrapped her arm around Antimony's waist to draw her closer. The cold was unexpected but not uncomfortable, and Antimony wondered whether Elsa could feel the heat from her body.

Their walk through the orchard consisted largely of stopping to kiss, and when Elsa left to attend to some duties, Antimony wandered among the trees. Though leaves crunched under her boots, she felt as though her feet weren't touching the ground. She was floating again, and she didn't care. No one would see her out here, and she could wander freely.

After that, they met more often. When they met varied depending on how busy they were; Elsa had demands on her time that would spring up suddenly, and sometimes those demands took hours to fill. Antimony had her own business with being an ambassador. She was thrust into meetings, and now that Morten knew, he expected her to fight for the advantage of the Southern Isles, no matter how difficult that might be. Antimony soon learned to assure him that she was doing exactly what he asked while actually doing what she thought best. It was only difficult when he got wind that certain discussions weren't going as he wanted them to, and then she had to make up lies in her next letter home.

Still, the two had time to find each other. Sometimes they met in the middle of the day, when everyone else was eating. Antimony didn't mind having a smaller meal – or none at all – on those days, and Elsa never complained about not having a private lunch. Sometimes they would have a picnic beneath one of the trees, but more often they would simply walk, and talk, and let their hands brush against each other and remain close for a while before drifting apart again.

Their talks were about anything and everything that came to mind. Antimony learned more about Arendelle's history, since there hadn't been nearly enough time to learn everything, and she told Elsa about some of the customs of the Southern Isles. Elsa told her about the old kings and queens who'd had the same ice magic as she did, and Antimony showed Elsa her ring and told her about her cousin the mermaid.

"This is incredible," Elsa said when Antimony let her hold the ring. She turned it over in her hands, peering at it and holding it up to the light. "Was it really made from magic?"

"I think so," Antimony said. "It saved my life."

Elsa slid the ring back onto Antimony's finger, and for a while neither of them said anything. Whenever Hans came up in the conversation, they both fell silent. Elsa was probably thinking of the time he had tried to kill both her and Anna, and while Antimony couldn't forget when he had shot her with a crossbow, she also remembered when she had been sure she was in love with him. The love had felt real, and so perhaps it was, but it seemed vague and distant compared to what she felt with Elsa.

"A mermaid," Elsa said after a while. "I don't know if any of my relatives have magic. Does that mean that King Morten would also have some sort of power?"

Antimony shook her head. "Hanna's my mother's niece. She's a creature of fire and water, since her own mother fell in love with the Sea King."

"I'd like to meet her someday," Elsa said. "I don't think Arendelle has ever had a relationship with the people of the sea. Of course, a fair number of my citizens don't think that mermaids exist. To tell the truth, I'm still a bit skeptical." She took Antimony's hand and looked at the ring again. "I might be starting to change my mind, though."

"Several people in the Southern Isles aren't sure that mermaids exist, either," Antimony said. "There's quite a lot some people won't believe in."

Though Antimony loved their noontime meetings, she was even more fond of when both she and Elsa could slip out at night. Then, their breaths making little puffs of mist in the air, they would wander through the gardens, their feet leaving prints in the new, fragile frost. Elsa would turn back and wave her hand, and then the frost would be as solid as ever, as though they hadn't been there at all.

"I've heard people talking about us," Elsa said.

Antimony's first thought was to be alarmed and ask what they had said, but then she saw the slight smile on Elsa's face. "What have they been saying?" she asked cautiously.

"They're amazed at what close friends we are," Elsa said. "One of the servants said she's glad I've found someone I can be so close to, since I was isolated for so long."

"That's all they think we are?" Antimony asked. "Friends?"

"Very close friends," Elsa said. "I think we can be a bit bolder. As long as we don't start kissing in front of the court, they won't suspect a thing." She waved her hand again, and Antimony looked back in time to see frost settle on their footprints. It wasn't perfect; there were still faint marks, as though a ghost had passed through the gardens, or rather two ghosts, walking very closely together. She wondered if anyone else would see the marks, or if the sun would melt all the frost before that could happen, keeping their secret.


	27. The Difficulties

Now that Antimony knew to pay attention, she realized that people really did see her and Elsa as very close friends. Having never had any proper friends of any sort, let alone friends who were fellow women, she hadn't known what she ought to expect, and she had been nervous about being near Elsa so much. However, it was just as Elsa had said: If they were careful and not too open with their affections, they could be seen as no more than good friends.

Still, there were people who suspected they were something more. They didn't say it aloud, but Antimony could see it in the way they glanced at her, in the way they watched her and Elsa after they came back from the garden. She wondered if they whispered to each other when she and Elsa were out of earshot, whether they suspected the two of them were in love.

Even those who didn't suspect a bit had their own reasons to whisper. After all, it was traditional for a queen and her ambassador to have a cordial but somewhat distant relationship. They were far too friendly for tradition, and while most people were willing to let tradition fall to the side a little, those who were unwilling were far more vocal, and far more willing to go directly to either Antimony or Elsa to share their thoughts.

"I could exile them," Elsa said one evening. The stars had just come out, and Antimony thought they looked like bits of frost in the sky.

"Where would you send them?" Antimony asked.

"To some island somewhere. I think I still remember how to make an eternal winter. Let's see how much they like that kind of tradition." Despite her harsh words, her smile was kind. Elsa had begun making jokes about becoming a tyrant, but only in Antimony's company. It had been unnerving at first, but now that she was more used to it, Antimony found herself enjoying the little jests.

"Perhaps you ought to cut off their tongues first," Antimony said. "All the most well-remembered kings and queens involved some kind of public punishment for people they disapproved of."

"I don't think I could do that to them," Elsa said. "Exile is bad enough without my taking away their chief pleasure."

"Talking?"

"Complaining."

Even though they both did their best to laugh off the complainers, Antimony and Elsa grew a bit more distant. They assured each other it was only for their safety, but on the nights when Antimony didn't go out to the garden, she would look out her window and see Elsa walking around, creating beautiful sculptures of ice and snow that would melt in the morning sun, although more and more of the snow stayed with each day. Antimony wished she could join her, but it would be too soon since their last tryst, and they both knew it wouldn't be safe. She just wished Elsa could leave her some little message, a hidden place with her name carved into ice, or perhaps just a garden formed from perfectly compressed snow. That would still be too dangerous, though, just as it was too dangerous for Antimony to sear Elsa's name into a tree or do anything at all with her magic for Elsa to see.

And so autumn slowly faded into winter.

Sometimes, in the middle of reading a book, Antimony would pause and realize that she had been in Arendelle for about a full season. Granted, spring and autumn were a bit shorter here than they were in the Southern Isles, but it was still an impressive amount of time to spend as an ambassador anywhere, especially as young as she was. Other people apparently thought so, too, for during the first few months they would constantly come up and congratulate her. It took a few reminders from Émeric for her to think of the bets people would place on how long the ambassador from the Southern Isles would last, and every time after that, whenever someone approached her to give her congratulations, she wondered how much money she had won them.

Elsa wasn't the only person she spent time with. The other ambassadors were always willing to have her sit with them at meals, even if she had been in fierce negotiations with them only an hour before.

"It's one of the difficulties of being an ambassador," said Ruth Szekeres, the green-eyed ambassador from one of the many nomadic tribes of the east. With her wide eyes and soft voice, Antimony had assumed she would be cautious and retiring, but instead she proved to be sharp to the point of being caustic, at least around people who displeased her, and a fine shot with any sort of bow. She was said to be just as good with a rifle, though Antimony had never seen the woman armed with anything but a longbow. "We're expected to be at each other's throats, but we still have to get along with each other after the negotiations are through."

"I didn't know that when I first came here," Émeric said, sipping from his heated cider. More than anyone else, he had trouble with the cold of Arendelle, and now that the snow on the ground wasn't melting, Antimony never saw him without at least a thin coat and some gloves. "When Tafari Henshaw down there tried to take me out for a drink after nearly eviscerating my treaty, I tried to challenge him to a duel."

"I would have eviscerated you then, too," Tafari said. He was the ambassador from the island of Albion, though his mother came from far to the south, even farther than the Icicle of the Desert claimed to be. "My father is a fine fencer."

"But I have youth on my side," Émeric said brightly.

"I'm not so old that you can say that," Tafari replied. He had a smile that seemed at once wise and taunting, and rather than respond, Émeric took another gulp of his cider.

"I hear Antimony's been having difficulties of her own," Anaïs Zelenka, the fiery ambassador from a tiny country seemingly always at war with the Frankish people, said. Somehow, despite getting into shouting matches with him, she was friends with Émeric, and Antimony had once thought she saw the two of them kissing.

"What do you mean?" Émeric asked, frowning. A few of the other ambassadors at the table muffled smirks, and Antimony did her best to keep her face impassive. "Anaïs, you can't tease me like this."

"All right," Anaïs said. "Antimony, if this makes you angry, I'm very sorry, but I can't refuse Émeric, not when he looks like that. I'm sure you understand."

Antimony did. Émeric's eyes were wide, and he was nearly pouting as he looked around. He didn't look like an ambassador so much as he did a puppy, or a little boy who hadn't been given a sweet at Yuletide. "What is this difficulty you think I have?" Antimony asked.

"A difficulty with friendship, of course," Anaïs said. "Is there any other kind for us? After all, we are expected to be cordial, or to be angry, or to be aloof, without any regard for how we really feel about the people we're working with. From what I've heard, both you and our queen had very lonely childhoods. Is it any wonder that you would turn to each other for comfort?"

Tafari muffled another smirk, and Anaïs shot him a sharp look. "I'm sorry," he said, lowering his hand. "It's just that, where I come from, that phrase has a rather more… intimate meaning."

Anaïs didn't blush, but she did raise her chin. "This is not Albion, and I wouldn't ever insinuate that my queen or my friend would act like that. I would appreciate it if you didn't read things into my words that were not there to begin with."

Antimony took a bite of her fish and hoped her hair would hide any blush that might have come to her face. She'd heard the word _that _applied to people who behaved as she did around the queen, but it had never been placed on her. It felt like a burr had been pressed against her neck, and no matter how it ached and stuck, if she tried to pull it away, it would only hurt more, and there would be a bit of blood leftover to show what had happened.

Turning back to Antimony, Anaïs said, "You only need to watch yourself more closely. You're young, and though you've been proven as an ambassador, there are plenty of people who still see you as a child. If you can play to that, then they won't bother you any longer."

Elsa didn't see her as a child, surely. If she did, she wouldn't have accepted her as the ambassador from the Southern Isles, let alone talked to her about policy. She certainly wouldn't have kissed her, or trusted her as much as she did. "What do you mean by that?" Antimony asked. "How am I supposed to play to being a child?"

"Oh, it's very simple," Anaïs said. "Be wide-eyed, remind people gently that you're still new to this land and you haven't got many friends. If you need inspiration, you can just watch Émeric."

"I haven't been playing to anything," Émeric said.

"Not purposefully," Anaïs said. "Still, why do you think people are so fond of you? They want to protect you, because you act so young."

"It's true," Antimony said. When Émeric looked at her in shock, she smiled and added, "You looked so helpless on the boat, after all. I was your friend from the moment you started being kind to me, but I wanted to do something for you when you were seasick."

"And I'll bet that Antimony hasn't been on a boat since, especially not when there's a chance you might have wanted to keep her company," Anaïs said.

Émeric opened his mouth to retort, but before Antimony could know what he would have told her, a pale messenger approached, holding a piece of paper which he handed to Émeric. Émeric read it once, then again, then a third time, all without taking a bite of food or a drink of cider. He grew pale with each successive reading, and after the third, he was trembling.

"What's the matter?" Antimony asked, but Émeric shook his head and got to his feet.

"I have to go," he said, but his voice came out thick. He stumbled as he left his chair, but when Anaïs sprang to her feet to help him, he waved her away. "I haven't been poisoned," he said, trying to smile and only managing to grimace. "I've only gotten some news. I have to go."

"Where are you going?" Ruth asked, but Émeric only shook his head again and ran, clutching the letter in his hand. Once he was gone, everyone gradually sank into their chairs, but the cheer was gone from the meal, and no one ate with the same appetite they'd had before. Everyone watched the door, and Antimony knew she wasn't the only one wishing Émeric would return in a few moments.

"What do you think that was?" she asked after the meal had finished and they were all heading back to their work. She would have to meet with Ruth to work out a trade agreement between her tribe and the Southern Isles, but she thought she might be able to wait a moment longer.

"A difficulty," Anaïs said. She hadn't risen from her seat, and even when Antimony was nearly gone, she still stared at the door. Émeric had been gone for a long time, and his meal had grown cold. If she hadn't had to meet with Ruth, Antimony would have gone in search of him, whether he wanted it or not. He was so young, and she wanted to help.


	28. Season of War

Antimony didn't have a chance to see Émeric until that evening, when he knocked on her door. She opened it at once, and he stumbled inside, eyes wide and face pale. He looked as though he was staring for a thousand miles but seeing nothing, and she had to guide him to a chair before he would sit. Even then, he simply sat and stared for a while. She was just about to send for a doctor when he spoke, his voice hollow and numb.

"I need your help."

"What's the matter?" she asked, sitting beside him at the window. He didn't turn to look at her, and for a moment she thought he might not speak again. Then the words all came out in a rush, slamming against each other so hard that she could barely make them out unless she listened closely.

"I haven't been honest with you, at least not entirely. The Frankish people may say they are the allies of the Southern Isles, but in truth, they care about no one but themselves. They would betray your land at once if they thought it would be in their advantage, and it's only because they haven't seen an opportunity for that advantage and your people and mine are still at peace. They didn't want me to befriend you, or anyone else here, and to tell the truth, now I wish I hadn't." He took a deep breath, and it seemed almost to whistle down his throat. "The Frankish king has declared war on Arendelle."

Antimony reached forward and grabbed his hands, sure that he might appreciate someone willing to hold him steady. His skin was warm, and it felt strange because of that. "Does Elsa know?"

Émeric shook his head. "I haven't told her. Whenever I tried, my throat just closed up, or I got dizzy. Two servants almost sent for a doctor before I told them I wasn't about to faint." His smile was tight and anxious, and Antimony thought there was still a chance he would faint, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"Elsa needs to know," Antimony said. "If she doesn't, she'll be completely unprepared."

"That's why I need your help," he said. "I don't know what to do. If I don't tell her, then the king's fleets will sweep in here at once and attack Arendelle, and I'll be a traitor. If I do tell her, then she'll send an eternal winter to my home, and I'll still be a traitor. I need your advice, Antimony. You're her friend, aren't you? You're her close friend, from what I hear. What do you think she'll do?"

They had never much discussed war or politics during their trysts, and Antimony suddenly felt very young and very unsure. She had never been prepared for a war, or anything more dangerous than an argument between two feuding diplomats. "I don't know what she'll think," she said carefully, "but I will go with you to tell her."

"Thank you," Émeric said, but as they rose, his knees buckled and he dropped back to the seat, burying his head in his hands. "I can't! Antimony, you'll have to go alone."

"This is your responsibility," she said, pulling him up. His pallor was ghastly, and she thought that perhaps she ought to go alone, since he clearly needed someone to look after him. "That message came from your king, not mine."

"I can't," he said faintly as she led him from the room. "No matter what I do, I'll betray someone."

Antimony led him down the hall to Elsa's room and knocked at the door. After a moment, it opened, and on seeing Émeric's face, Elsa at once ushered them in. "What happened?" she asked as Antimony helped him into a chair. He settled against the cushions, his face once again blank and staring miles away. "Should I send for a doctor?"

"That might be best," Antimony said. "I think he's been through a bad shock."

Elsa rang for a servant, and seconds later, one stepped inside. She sent the girl off at once to fetch the best doctor she could find, and once the girl was gone, she sat down, looking carefully at Émeric. "What sort of shock could do this to him?" she asked. "He always seemed so carefree, even untouchable."

"He got a message at lunch today," Antimony said. "The Frankish king has declared war on Arendelle."

Elsa gasped and sat up. "Under what grounds?"

"I don't know," Antimony said. "Émeric couldn't say much to me, and I doubt he'll be able to tell us now." He looked as though he might never say anything again, and Antimony had to look carefully at his chest to be sure he was still breathing.

"We'll have to find out," Elsa said. "The doctor will likely say that he needs rest, but more than that, I need to know why King Mireille would attack me."

"Mireille?" The name was unfamiliar and sounded a bit feminine, and Elsa nodded.

"For the Frankish people, the term 'king' can mean either a man or a woman. Mireille took it on the death of her father, who took it from his aunt, who took it from her grandfather, who allegedly won it while gambling after having taken his opponent's money, clothes, wife, and children." Elsa smiled, but it was fleeting, and her attention soon turned back to Émeric. "Mireille's family is known for being eccentric, even mad, but among them, she is the one to be most feared. Her behavior is erratic, even on what people call her good days, and no one quite knows what they ought to do about her. Some people want to depose her, and others want to make her a god."

Émeric groaned and fell forward, and when Antimony caught him, his skin was hot against her hand. "I can't go on," he murmured. "You'll have to play the tournament without me."

"He's delirious," she said, easing him to the floor. "How soon will the doctor get here?"

"I don't know," Elsa said.

Émeric's eyes were closed, and his breathing was labored. "Do you think this could have something to do with the shock?" Antimony asked.

"I'm not sure," Elsa said. She paced from Émeric to the door, looking out into the hall. "Tell me if anything more happens."

Antimony nodded and set her fingers on Émeric's wrist. The last person she had known to be feverish had been Hans, and seeing Émeric lie so still reminded her of that. She felt an ache deep inside her and wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or rage against something. She wished she had some form of healing magic, or that her ring had enough power to save him so she could do something besides kneeling and setting her hand on his.

The doctor arrived, took one look at Émeric, and had some of the servants bear him out. He promised to send word to Elsa once he had started to recover, and then he left, nearly running. Elsa turned and walked to her desk.

"I'll need to write to Mireille myself," she said. "I may have to tell her that her war has nearly cost her an ambassador."

Antimony had never heard Elsa sound so sharp, but she couldn't bring herself to move. She didn't even react to anything until Elsa set a hand on her shoulder.

"Antimony," she said gently. "Rest. You look nearly as bad as Émeric did."

Antimony drifted back to her room and lay down, but it was a long while before she was able to sleep.

* * *

Two days later, Antimony hadn't heard from Elsa about the war. She hadn't heard anything from Elsa, really. They hadn't been able to meet in the garden, and whenever they passed each other in the halls, Elsa seemed distracted and anxious. She hadn't responded when Antimony asked if there was anything she could do to help, and Antimony soon only gave her the briefest of smiles when she saw her.

She did hear a great deal from the other ambassadors, most of it speculation on where Émeric was. Some thought he had run away, and one thought he might have gone mad. Antimony told them about the fever, but nothing else, and they suspected he must have gotten some terrible news from home. Antimony only nodded, but she wouldn't say what the news was, which annoyed all the rest of them. She found herself sitting alone, but she didn't mind. Her thoughts were elsewhere.

Two days after seeing Émeric collapse, Antimony was summoned to a sickroom by a servant. The man led her to a little chamber with windows that would let in the sun if there were any to let it. The room was cheerfully decorated, but none of that could hide the fact that Émeric looked worse than he had before. His cheeks were hollow, and there were shadows under his eyes. The only consolation was that his gaze looked clear rather than distant. Even if the fever was still there, he was lucid again, which could only mean that he was recovering.

The doctor, a man with white speckled throughout his dark hair, stopped Antimony at the door and set a hand on her shoulder. "He insisted on seeing you," he said softly. "He says he won't eat or rest until he's had a chance to talk to you. Please, make your visit short. I don't want the boy to die for his own foolishness."

As soon as she was allowed to, Antimony ran to Émeric's side and clasped his hand. He turned his head but didn't lift it from his pillow. "Hello," he said softly, his voice rasping. "Isn't this odd? The first time I saw you, you were the one that everyone thought would die."

"Don't you dare say that this will be the last time we see each other," Antimony said. "You're going to live."

"Or what? You'll follow me into hell? Don't answer that," he added. "I'm sure you would, at least for some people."

"You're one of those people," she said.

Émeric shook his head, but it wasn't so much a denial as it was an attempt to change the subject. "King Mireille's gone mad. Queen Elsa has to understand that. If you get a chance, tell her. There's no reasoning with the Frankish king. All she can do is try to save Arendelle."

"I'll tell her when I can," Antimony said. "Elsa hasn't been talking to me much, though."

"Tell her!" Émeric said, nearly crushing Antimony's hand as he rose up out of bed. His eyes were wild, and an unhealthy flush came into his cheeks. "Antimony, you don't know what the king can do. You've never met her. You wouldn't understand, and I don't want you to. It's far too dangerous, and I –" His voice faltered, but by then the doctor had arrived and was easing a trembling Émeric back onto the bed.

"You ought to leave," he told Antimony. "He needs his rest."

Émeric tried to protest, but the doctor insisted that, since he had seen Antimony, it was time to keep up his part of the deal. Not wanting to listen to the argument, Antimony slipped away and went in search of Elsa.

She found the queen standing in ankle-deep snow in the garden, and there was no way of knowing if the snow had fallen naturally or was there because of magic.

"Mireille's gone mad," Antimony said, and the little peace that had been in Elsa's face vanished.

"I suppose Émeric sent you with the message," she said after a while. "Very well. I'll tell Arendelle to prepare for war. I'll do my best to keep Émeric here, but he is Frankish. If he is called back, I won't be able to hold him without becoming a tyrant."

Antimony shivered, but not from the winter's cold.


End file.
